


Hung up on You

by eyessharpweaponshot



Category: The 100 (TV), The 100 Series - Kass Morgan
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Bellarke, Bellarke Big Bang 2019, Collaboration, Drinking, Enemies to Lovers, Exes, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Friends With Benefits, Happy Ending, Heartbreak, Humor, Hurt/Comfort, Jealousy, Mutual Pining, POV Bellamy Blake, Protective Bellamy Blake, Semi-Public Sex, Smut, Teacher Bellamy Blake, Teacher Clarke Griffin, artwork, clarkeindra, minor Murven, minor marper, secret feelings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-15
Updated: 2019-07-15
Packaged: 2020-06-27 12:16:03
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 26,972
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19790701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/eyessharpweaponshot/pseuds/eyessharpweaponshot
Summary: Bellamy Blake does not get hung up on girls. It just doesn’t happen. It’s probably why he’s out of his depth when his easy ‘friends with benefits’ arrangement with Clarke Griffin turns into something he can’t control. He’s heartbroken when she leaves town, leaves him, and he thinks he’s made a good effort to move on. However, upon her return, it only takes the mere mention of her name for the crushing realisation to hit: he never got over her at all.





	1. Feels like This

**Author's Note:**

> Welcome to my submission for **[Bellarke Big Bang, 2019.](https://bellarkebigbang.tumblr.com)**  
>  A big thank you to [Chloe](https://catastrophic-chloe.tumblr.com) for organising this, it was so much fun.  
> A special thanks to [Siv](https://clarkeindra.tumblr.com) (the artist I collaborated with on this) for being so easy and brilliant to work with. Her talent is off the charts and I am so proud to have my name next to hers on this. [Here](https://clarkeindra.tumblr.com/post/186307759321/first-of-all-a-huuuge-thank-you-to-the-lovely) is the link to all of the pieces she created for this fic - go have a look, reblog it, share it and give her all the love she deserves.
> 
> _'Touched my skin and left your mark, you knew all the words to say.  
>  Held the strings tied to my heart, pulled and pushed away.  
> My friends don't bring you up no more, I'm sure yours don't mention me.  
> I remember how we were before, it don't feel like memories.  
> Why can't I get over, over you? Your love is a fire, still high on the fumes.  
> I've done everything I know I can do, I'm still hung up on you.'_   
>  **\- Hung Up, Tritonal.**

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Who cares about star signs? I'm hardwired to be with you.  
>  You're like a sunrise, and I'm scared that I'll never get enough of you;  
> When it feels like this, like a light came on. When you look at me, say I'm all you want.  
> I got everything at my fingertips. How can I resist when it feels like this?_   
>  **\- Feels Like This, Maisie Peters.**

A loud bang on the door makes Bellamy jump.

It becomes very consistent before he can even make it off the couch, the person thumping away at the wood like their lives depended on it. Bellamy rolls his eyes, knowing before he even opens it that Nathan Miller owns the fist making all that noise. He takes his time making his way over, already irritated that he’s showed up here.

When Bellamy opens the door, he has a pissed off look on his face as he stares at his best friend.

‘Really?’ He deadpans.

‘Blake! You’re alive!’ Miller cheers sarcastically, pushing his way inside Bellamy’s apartment with Murphy and Monty following in tow. Monty, at least, has the decency to give Bellamy a sympathetic shrug on his way in. ‘Jesus, the state of this place’ Miller notes as he flops onto the couch, knocking over some empty beer bottles on his way.

‘Yeah, man. Thought you were a clean freak?’ Murphy comments, flicking on the table lamp at the end of the couch on his way over. His apartment comes to life and Bellamy practically squints at the harsh brightness of the room now. His curtains haven’t been drawn in well over a week and Bellamy can’t bring himself to care about the fact that his place smells like a farmyard.

Beer bottles are littered everywhere - on his coffee table, on the kitchen counters and even the floor space under his television set. Takeout containers are still in the trash from days ago, probably what’s giving this place it’s odour. Blankets are draped over the couch from where Bellamy has been sleeping and he’s pretty sure his clothes are a week old. His beard is overgrown, more unruly than it normally is and he’s sure his skin looks grey from lack of proper nutrition.

‘Go shower, hurry up’ Miller picks up the remote, changing the boxing channel that Bellamy had been watching over to some comedy show that has too many laughing sequences in it from the audience.

‘Why?’ Bellamy tosses his messy curls, following his friends over to the living space. Seriously, he loves them and he knows they’re only here because he wouldn’t answer their phone calls and they care - but he could do without them right now.

‘Because you smell almost as bad as your apartment’ Murphy leans back on the couch, tossing a few peanuts into his mouth. He makes a face afterwards and spits them back out into his hand which makes Bellamy smirk. Those have definitely been left sitting out for a few days. ‘Jesus fucking Christ man - right, tomorrow, we’re coming over to clean this place.’

‘Like hell we are’ Miller snorts. ‘We’ll be too hungover for that.’

‘I want to know how you’ve gotten away with not letting Octavia do it’ Monty says to Bellamy, collapsing down beside Murphy.

‘I haven’t let her in.’

At this, all three of his friends snap their stares to him. Yeah, it’s bad when his sister can’t get through to him. Bellamy tries to sit down next to Miller but he kicks him, shoving him forward with the back of his shoe so he can’t.

‘No - shower. Go, _now_.’

‘Fuck off’ Bellamy snaps, getting irritated now. They’re lucky he even let them get in this far.

‘Jesus, this mystery girl really did a number on you’ Murphy shakes his head, eyes trained on the television. Bellamy’s heart sinks at the reference. ‘Haven’t seen you this grumpy since senior year after we lost the quarterfinal football game.’

‘Yeah well, I’m not eighteen anymore’ Bellamy mutters.

‘That’s right, you’re 27 so go and get in the goddamn shower like an adult, get dressed and come to Grounders. We’re buying you a beer’ Miller instructs, getting annoyed now. ‘We haven’t seen you in three weeks, you’ve used up all your holiday time from work and now you’re here moping over some chick that you didn’t have the decency to tell any of us about. So move, now.’

‘Miller-’ Bellamy begins but Murphy cuts him off.

‘Man, I know you’re bigger than me but I will attempt to kick your ass. I might not succeed, but that’s where Miller will jump in. And maybe Monty - but either way, we’re getting you to Grounders tonight and you’re going to have a good time with us’ he flicks his feet up onto the coffee table. ‘I know you don’t want me standing in that bathroom showering you but I _will_ do it.’

With that, Bellamy sighs loud enough for them all to hear his disdain and storms off to the bathroom where he finally showers for the first time in a week. As the water drips down his muscular torso, his mind is idle once more and it goes to where it always does.

 _Her_.

Fuck - things are so messed up. He never thought he’d end up here, heartbroken and pining after some girl. Bellamy has always played it fast and loose with women, never had a serious relationship in his goddamn life.

It’s why it was so easy when Clarke Griffin fell into his bed that night. He didn’t even have to like her for it to be a good fuck, didn’t have to give a damn about the way it worked out. But he did.

She’s Octavia’s best friend from college and always seemed to be around their social group after that. Bellamy could never get away from the girl - every time he looked sideways, she was fucking there. It’s not like Shallow Valley is a massive town but still, did she not have any other friends to hang out with?

A spoilt Princess, going to college on mommy and daddy’s money while Bellamy had to work three jobs to get himself through his own teaching degree. Octavia had been lucky enough to get a sports scholarship but Clarke, she was a different kettle of fish. Bellamy already decided he couldn’t stand her upon hearing how she made her way in the world - she knew nothing about the hardships of life.

He rolled his eyes at her jokes, made a point of picking an argument with her over everything on nights out and even went out of his way to groan when anybody mentioned her name in the group. She’s pretty, which just flat out annoyed him - how can someone be so attractive yet so irritating? What irked him more was Miller and the others seemed to love her just as much as Octavia did.

No-one would ever believe that Clarke was the girl who broke his heart. Not for one second.

It hadn’t meant to end up like that. That one time fuck should have stayed at just one time, but because she was good and it was an easy arrangement, it turned into two and three times. That turned into seventeen, onto thirty and then Bellamy stopped promising himself that the ‘next time’ would be the last time he would hook up with her. It was just going to keep happening - and deep down, he knew he had no intention of stopping it.

She was like a drug, enticing and addicting. Something he couldn’t seem to get enough of, something that the second he was alone - he craved her again. Clarke Griffin was fire, hot and scorching and full of everything that terrified Bellamy, yet he wanted her heat anyway. Sought it out, yearned for it like he was always cold.

At the start, once the sex was over, Clarke always left straight away - but then, conversation started happening. He could actually hold one with her without arguing, which seemed odd to him at first. Somewhere after the tenth or eleventh hook up, details about Clarke’s past came out and it shed a different light on the spoilt Princess immediately.

Her dad died, her mother could be overbearing, her ex back home cheated on her with his girlfriend - whom Clarke had no idea about. She was supposed to pursue medicine like her mom, but she fell in love with art and wanted to teach it, much to her mother’s disapproval. Her eyes lit up when she spoke about painting though and Bellamy grew to love that happening.

More than all of that, Bellamy opened his eyes and noticed how unwaveringly loyal she was to Octavia and the others. She constantly went out of her way to help them if they needed it and soon, that spread onto Bellamy as well. She listened to him about his childhood, how hard he worked to look after his sister and all of a sudden, a weight was lifted from him because he could talk to her in a way that he couldn’t talk to anyone else.

He even fell ill one day and she arrived at the door with homemade soup, force feeding him and sitting with him until he finally felt better. No sex had been expected that day and soon, it became the norm. Sure, he loved fucking her senseless but suddenly, they didn’t need that to hang out.

It never meant to turn into that - and he never meant to fall in love with the girl he once hated.

‘Blake!’

Miller’s voice, followed by a hard knock on the door, snaps Bellamy back into the present moment and the pain in his heart returns tenfold. His chest feels heavy, like his ribcage is growing smaller and smaller with each passing day. There’s not one bit of him that wants to go out tonight.

‘ _What_?’ Bellamy snaps. Why can’t they just leave him be?

‘Fuck off with your tone’ Miller says evenly, completely unfazed. ‘Come on, we’re leaving in five. Get out and get dressed, I’m sick of mothering you.’

‘So stop’ Bellamy says quietly, hoping the sound of the water beating off the shower tray will drown it out but Miller hears it anyway.

‘Stop making me. Five minutes or I’m coming in to drag you out myself.’

-

The club is packed, as it always is on a Saturday night. There’s too many bodies on the dance floor and it takes about fifteen minutes to get a drink at the bar. Monty and Murphy are on either side of Bellamy, all three of them watching the mass sea of people shake their hips to some lame Rihanna song.

He’s dressed in his favourite jeans and the black long sleeve t-shirt that Clarke always loved on him.

‘We’re at Grounders, not a funeral’ Miller returns with a bottle of beer for each of them, his voice elevated because of the noise level in here. ‘Drink up and look happy about it, Blake - no harm in having a couple of drinks with your friends.’

Bellamy does as he’s told, taking a long swing from the neck of the bottle. Suppose there is no harm in having a few, it’s serving him no good being by himself.

‘What the hell happened, anyway?’ Murphy shouts over the music. ‘With this girl?’

‘Murphy’ Bellamy groans.

‘Come on, you owe us this’ Miller tells him.

Bellamy sighs, rolling his eyes before looking down at his beer bottle like it’s the most interesting thing in the world.

 _Fuck_ , he does not want to talk about it - he especially doesn’t want to tell them that it was Clarke, and the question of who this girl was that broke his heart will definitely be asked.

_May is always a long month and quite frankly, Bellamy is glad to see the end of it. His history class is busy prepping for summer exams at the end of June and he himself is busy writing them. He sees Miller all the time at school, considering he teaches Physical Education and his office is just down the hall from Bellamy’s. Monty, however, is a pharmacist downtown and Murphy is just after joining the fire department so trying to get them all together is tough. That’s why this morning’s diner plan seemed perfect, before any of them had to be at work._

_Miller flicks a forkful of scrambled egg at Murphy across the diner table, hitting him square in the face. Monty snorts into his coffee, laughing at the two of them but Bellamy is busy looking at his phone._

**P:**

**Thinking of you. Miss those morning cuddles.**

_His smile must be too obvious - either that, or the way his heart pounds at her admission of her thinking of him is audible because Miller quickly swipes his phone from his hand._

_‘Hey!’ Bellamy makes a dart to take it back but Miller holds it just out of reach, shoving Bellamy back with his hand as he reads the text out loud to the group._

_‘Oooooh’ Murphy and Monty chime immaturely, making a complete mockery out of the situation. Honestly, half the time, it feels like they’re all still in high school instead of teaching in it._

_‘Who’s P?’ Miller laughs as Bellamy takes back hold of his phone, shoving Miller roughly across the table as he does so. He thanks every lucky star out there that he had the good sense to use her ‘Princess’ initial instead of ‘C’ for Clarke. Still, even though they’ve been getting on better in public lately, he’s sure that if he had her number down as ‘Clarke Griffin’, the boys would still wonder who she was. They wouldn’t believe for one second that it was their friend._

_‘Nobody’ Bellamy grumbles, shooting Clarke a love heart emoji back before pocketing his phone._

_‘Come on’ Monty grins, shoving almost a whole pancake into his mouth. ‘Since when do you date?’_

_‘Date?! Since when do girls even spend the night?’ Miller raises his eyebrows, folding his arms on the table as he leans over - eager to know who this mystery girl is. Bellamy just takes a gulp of his coffee, ignoring all of their prying._

_‘Fine - you don’t have to tell us a name or her postcode or anything like that, just how long have you been seeing her?’ Monty asks._

_‘About three months’ Bellamy replies after a few moments, truly irritated that he has to have this conversation at all._

_‘THREE MONTHS?’ They all shout in unison, causing a few heads to turn from the people around the diner._

_‘When do we get to meet her?’ Monty’s eyes are practically falling out of his head._

_‘Do we know her or is she an out of towner? Was she a Tinder date?’ Miller follows up with two questions._

_‘Forget all that, how big are her assets?’ Murphy makes a squeezing gesture at his chest._

_‘I’m going to work’ Bellamy replies dryly, grabbing his shoulder bag which contains all the papers that he’s graded last night and slides out of the booth._

_‘Aw come on’ they all groan._

_‘Idiot, Murphy’ Miller flicks some more egg at him._

_‘What? It was a logical question!’_

_Bellamy is almost at the door when Miller yells after him._

_‘Fine - avoid us now! But you’ll have to tell us eventually!’_

Bellamy lifts his eyes to meet his friends, all staring at him as they wait for an explanation. Guess now is the time to tell them - maybe not everything, but enough to satisfy them.

The lights of the club are blinding but he doesn’t miss the concern in their gazes. They might joke around all the time but all four of them have been friends too long - the way they care for each other is deep-rooted in them. Bellamy has missed work, lived like a hermit and ignored them all. They’re worried about him.

‘We just didn’t work out.’

‘Clearly’ Murphy responds.

‘On your terms or hers?’ Monty asks.

Bellamy considers this for a moment, biting his bottom lip.

_Clarke is shoving whatever belongings she has left in Bellamy’s into a duffle bag, a t-shirt here and there, a pair of jeans, a few products from the bathroom._

_‘Please’ Bellamy follows her around like an idiot. It’s dark outside and thunder can be heard in the distance, faint compared to the harsh cascade of rainfall against his windows. A week ago, she was sending him a cute text while he was in the diner with his friends and now this?_

_‘I can’t, Bellamy’ Clarke shoves a hand through her blonde hair, looking like she’s stressed to the max. ‘I can’t stay.’_

_‘This has come out of nowhere’ his voice shakes and he hates it - but he’s panicking. She’s leaving. ‘Yesterday, everything was normal and now today you’re leaving for Chicago? Has something happened?’_

_‘No - nothing’s happened.’_

_‘Well, maybe I can go with you?’ He hates that he sounds this desperate but fuck, he’s in love with her. He wants to tell her but it’s clearly not the right time._

_‘No, you have work - you can’t exactly leave.’_

_‘I have three weeks left before summer, I’m sure I can find someone to cover my classes and then-’_

_‘Bellamy!’ Clarke shakes her hands in frustration. Bellamy falls silent, watching the way her face contorts in anger. She takes a breath before she continues, trying to calm herself. ‘I just need to get away from the Valley for a while.’_

_She says it with such hostility that it makes Bellamy stop following her around, watching her from the door frame as she piles the remainder of her stuff into the bag. He lets it sink in for a second and reads between the lines all too easily._

_‘Away from me.’_

_It’s not a question, it’s a statement and judging by the look that comes over her face after that, it’s correct._

_‘Bellamy-’_

_‘No’ he stops her, almost grinning from the hurt. It’s laughable - he’s fallen for her, fallen for her so fucking hard. He’s never been in love before and now that he is, the girl he loves doesn’t love him back - that much is obvious. It doesn’t matter why she’s leaving anymore - she clearly has her own reasons and she doesn’t owe him a goddamn thing._

_They’re sleeping together, not dating. Nobody knows and it was supposed to be a casual thing. He has no right to do this, to question her like this. He turns on his heel and walks towards his apartment door, swinging it open as she follows him. He gestures for her to leave and he must imagine the look of pain that comes into her eyes because she doesn’t give a shit - if she did, she wouldn’t be doing this._

_Clarke opens her mouth to say something but closes it quickly after, deciding against it. She takes slow steps until she’s on the other side of the door and looks back at Bellamy. He’s doing a good job at holding back whatever sad emotion he’s feeling and he reckons he’s doing a damn good job of pushing out the angry one._

_‘Safe trip, Princess’ he snaps, slamming the door shut behind her._

‘Her, I guess’ he admits to the boys. ‘Look, I just want to forget it. It’s over now, whatever it was.’

‘But you’re in love with her?’ The question comes from Miller and considering he’s such a joker most of the time, there’s no humour in his voice.

‘Yeah’ Bellamy admits, nodding as he looks back down at his beer bottle because there's no point in even correcting Miller. It's not a statement that requires past tense. ‘Yeah, I am.’

-

The night moves by in a blur.

The boys stop asking questions about Clarke and the conversation moves onto more casual things, like work and the fact that summer will be over before they know it. Murphy and Monty are still working but Bellamy and Miller get some time off. Bellamy, for one, doesn’t feel like he deserves it considering he didn’t even go to work for the last three weeks of term - but whatever. He’ll start fresh once summer is over and Clarke is out of his head for good.

The drinks are flowing and Bellamy even gets chatting to a few girls. One of them, tall and striking, gives him her number. She’s a brunette with an unusual name - Eartha or Echo or something and even though she’s pretty, she’s not Clarke.

He finds himself at the bar at one point with some blonde named Bree, who may or may not remind him of the very person he’s trying to forget, and out of pure and utter habit, he orders a Kamikaze shot. It doesn’t take long to register with him that he’s not ordering for Clarke, it’s for some other girl. He ends up having to drink it himself, refusing to buy another girl his ex’s favourite drink.

His ex - that’s all she is now. Not even an ex girlfriend, maybe an ex friend with benefits, an ex fuck even - but an ex all the same. She’s just gone.

He remembers Octavia’s last birthday so clearly. Clarke had been drunk before even hitting Grounders, absolutely gone after playing a game of ‘Never Have I Ever’ back at Octavia’s for pre-drinks. Bellamy had purposefully rigged the game, asking constant questions of sexual encounters that he knew she had previously done with him.

They had been seeing each other for a month at that point.

_‘You cheated at that game, you’re the reason I’m this far gone’ Clarke shoves his shoulder playfully as they all spill into the club._

_‘How did I cheat?’ Bellamy opens his mouth in false hurt. It’s hard to take his eyes off of her. She’s wearing a tight little black dress that he’s only dying to get off her later. She’s utterly beautiful - not a single flaw in sight. Her smile is a mirror of his own, her body leaning slightly against him as they climb up the stairs to where the music is already reverberating through their chests._

_‘You knew I had done that stuff in bed’ she loud whispers, checking over her shoulder to make sure the group aren’t paying attention._

_‘And in the car’ he teases. ‘And Grounders. And on the kitchen counter. And…’_

_‘Shut up’ she laughs, the sound filling him up too much. Fuck, he loves it when she does that, the way her hair tumbles over her shoulders when she throws her head back. There’s a sense of pride there, knowing he can make that happen._

_‘Come on, the effects are wearing off. Let’s get a shot’ she announces as she saunters off towards the bar. There’s a few guys leaning against the centre tables in the club, almost all of them turning to eye the hot blonde that’s walking past them. Bellamy raises his eyebrows, impressed that she can call the attention of an entire room just by being herself. She’s incredible._

_They must clock Bellamy following along behind her because they avert their eyes, respecting that she’s already his. She is, he realises - she’s his girl, for tonight anyway and as long as she wants. He’s never hooked up with someone for so long, never wanted to do it for even longer. Although, now is not a good time to analyse this thing between them when he’s halfway to tipsy._

_‘Pick your poison, Princess’ he smirks, leaning against the bar along with her._

_‘Kamikaze shot - always’ she winks, flicking her blonde hair over her shoulder._

_Bellamy grins, ordering two from the bartender. No words are exchanged in the wait for their drinks - just raw, sexual chemistry burning in the air between them. Clarke is looking at him like she could jump him right here and Bellamy’s hand is resting on her thigh, sparks flying from that very spot. His fingers trail a little higher, feeling the fabric at the end of her dress. He sees her breathing hitch and he’s already desperate for her, eager to lean forward and press a kiss against her throat. Fuck, she drives him insane._

_‘Oh sure, order without us’ Octavia announces sarcastically, coming up behind them. Bellamy’s hand quickly retreats and Clarke straightens herself simultaneously._

_‘What are you drinking, birthday girl?’ Bellamy recovers, slotting his arm around his sister._

_‘Surprise me’ Octavia nudges him just as the shots arrive. Bellamy hands his one to Octavia and both her and Clarke down the shots at the same time. Clarke barely reacts but Octavia’s face scrunches up in horror._

_‘Oh my fucking God’ she coughs. ‘It’s so strong.’_

_‘Hey, don’t diss my favourite drink’ Clarke says with no real heat behind it. ‘I’m going dancing, come on babe’ she nods at Octavia, giving Bellamy a subtle wink as she leaves. His eyes are glued to her as she walks away, appreciating the curve of her ass and her confident walk. That girl is something else._

_Damn, he’s in so much trouble._

‘Thought you promised me a drink, handsome?’ Bree flirts shamelessly with Bellamy, landing him back to reality with a bang. He’d give anything to be back here with Clarke, eyeing her as she struts around the club, knowing he’s the one that gets to go home with her later. Fuck. The hole in his heart is becoming too gaping, too painful, threatening to swallow him into it.

‘Got a better idea’ he decides, needing a distraction from all of this. He’s supposed to be getting over Clarke, not wallowing in memories of her. He takes Bree’s hand and leads her out of the club. They take a cab back to her place because it’s something Bellamy has learned from his years of playing the game - always go the girl’s place, that way, he can leave whenever he wants.

The only exception he made with that was Clarke.

He gives Bree a quick fuck, not even drawing the sensation out because he just wants to come - wants the orgasm to take him away from the heavy blanket of heartbreak on his chest. He’d worry about making it good for her because normally, he gets off on that, but he can’t even think past himself right now which sounds terrible.

In the dark, he can pretend her blonde hair is Clarke’s and that’s how he reaches his climax. She follows immediately afterwards so if nothing else, he satisfied her. He would feel sorry about using her as a distraction if this girl wasn’t as game for a one night stand as he was, but Bree made her intentions very clear.

Bellamy slips out without either of them offering a phone number and he walks back to his apartment, alone once more.

This night did nothing to distract him from Clarke. In fact, it just encouraged more hurt. How is he supposed to move on from the love of his life? Everywhere he goes, there’s her - even though she’s miles away from him right now. There’s no escaping her, she lives with him now.

In his head and in his heart.

-

The new term is approaching quickly and Bellamy had hoped the healing process for him would go just as fast as the summer had, but it didn’t. He still can’t bring himself to think about Clarke without feeling angry and hurt all at once.

He just wants an explanation as to why she left but of course, it’s always easier to fight than to have an emotional conversation. Whatever - she’s been gone all summer and the only thing his friends know about it all is that she’s visiting her mother in Chicago for a while. Bellamy had tried everything to move on, including going on a few dates with that Echo girl he met at the club.

He likes her - she’s funny, strong and intelligent and he can fuck her without thinking about Clarke in the process. It’s why she’s at his sisters with him tonight because Octavia just _had_ to know who he was dating.

‘You know, my brother doesn’t date so you must be really special’ Octavia comments as she shoves a large floret of broccoli into her mouth. Echo and Bellamy are seated across her dining room table, watching the monstrosity that is his sister’s eating habits.

‘Is that so?’ Echo smirks, cutting her chicken more delicately than Octavia is. Lincoln just grins across the table at Bellamy, making eye contact with him because they both know Octavia is being like this on purpose. She knows from their years growing up together that Bellamy would rather leave the table than watch someone have no manners while eating a meal.

‘Eat your food right, O, or I swear to God’ he growls, no real heat behind it. Octavia just rolls her eyes and picks up her beer bottle, taking a swig.

‘You sound like mom more and more everyday’ she comments and now it’s Bellamy’s turn to roll his eyes. Their mother is probably doing Bellamy’s exact expression in heaven right now. Echo giggles at the interaction between the two siblings, bumping her elbow against Bellamy’s like she’s telling him to lighten up.

‘Whatever’ Bellamy brushes his sister off.

‘Nice to see you have your snarky attitude back’ Octavia raises her eyebrows. ‘You’re not the girl who broke his heart, are you?’ She addresses Echo.

‘ _Octavia_ ’ Bellamy scolds.

‘What?’ She shrugs innocently. ‘I’m just asking.’

‘I don’t think so’ Echo smirks uncomfortably. ‘I thought Bellamy doesn’t date?’

‘Are you looking forward to going back to work, Bellamy?’ Lincoln changes the subject quickly before Octavia can even jump on that topic, the grin still on his face from earlier.

‘Yeah, looking forward to some structure to my days’ he says, taking a drink from his own beer bottle.

‘Mm’ Octavia almost chokes on her own drink because of whatever she is dying to say. She starts to cut her food as she says it, like it’s the most casual thing in the world - which to her, it is, but to Bellamy, not so much. ‘Bell, did you hear Clarke is coming back to the Valley?’

Bellamy pauses mid action, his fork suspended in the air with a piece of potato on the end. The silence that follows is too long, he knows that - knows it’s too obvious. It clings to him like a toxic cloud that could choke the life out of him at any second, paralysing him from speaking.

‘Bell?’ Octavia furrows her brow, glancing up at him as she pops another broccoli floret into her mouth. Echo and Lincoln are both looking at him, confused as to why he’s just sitting there silently. He wills his brain to reconnect with his mouth.

‘No’ Bellamy finally finds his voice but it’s hoarse when he speaks. He coughs in order to clear it a little and tries again. ‘No, I didn’t hear that.’

The sound of Clarke’s name has set his skin on fire, burning a hole deeper and deeper until it relights the kindle in his heart. _She’s coming back?_

‘Well, she is’ Octavia continues like the air hasn’t changed in the room. Maybe it hasn’t for anyone but Bellamy. ‘She got a teaching post at Valley High.’

‘The high school?’ Bellamy just stares at Octavia, unable to believe the words that are coming out of her mouth.

‘Yeah.’

‘My high school?’

Octavia’s brow pinches together at this, confused and looking at Bellamy like he’s gone mental.

‘Yes, Bell. Teaching Art, I think.’

‘Who is she?’ Echo asks lightly but Bellamy knows she’s probably curious as to why it’s exerting this reaction out of her date. He tries to regulate his breathing a little and regain some decorum. He takes a long drink of his beer, finishing it in one gulp and then tries to focus back on eating. His appetite is gone though - he can barely stomach sitting here, let alone eating another bite.

‘My best friend from college’ Octavia goes on, her mouth full of food once again but it’s not even annoying Bellamy now. ‘She left before summer started, wanted to spend some time with her mom in Chicago. Still, you know Clarke’ Octavia glances at Bellamy and Lincoln. ‘Only so much of Abby Griffin she can take.’

Bellamy is just staring at a spot on the dining table, letting Octavia’s words wash over him. Echo hums in agreement and goes on to asking Octavia what they studied in college but Bellamy isn’t even listening. He’s too focused on how hard his heart is thumping, how it’s making his fingers shake. _She’s coming back._

She’s coming back and she’s going to work in his school, where he’ll have to see her every day. The school is small, it’s not like he can avoid her. Not to mention that she’ll be back hanging out in their social group - how the hell is he supposed to act around her? How the hell is he supposed to get over her when she’s right in front of him? He can’t do it when she’s an entire plane journey away.

They had started getting a little more friendly in public before she left - he wouldn’t argue with her as much and if he did, it was teasing. He’d actually laugh at her jokes and she wouldn’t roll her eyes whenever he spoke. The group noticed a slight truce between them but never suspected that they were so soft for one another behind closed doors, sometimes even in public - like the night in Grounders. But how the hell is he supposed to keep that up after everything? He can’t, not when all he wants to do is confront her or be bitter with her for leaving.

When Bellamy looks up, Lincoln is staring at him with a concerned look on his face. Lincoln knows Bellamy and Clarke didn’t get on that great, didn’t gel well together at all - but the way he’s looking at Bellamy right now, it’s like he knows exactly why Bellamy is reacting like this.

‘Another beer?’ Lincoln offers. ‘I’ll have to make a run, though.’

‘There’s beer in the fridge?’ Octavia scrunches up her face in bafflement.

‘Nah, feel like something different’ Lincoln kisses her on her cheek before standing up, nodding to Bellamy as he goes. ‘Coming for the walk?’

Bellamy thinks he nods, standing without so much as a glance at Echo or Octavia. He just grabs his jacket and follows Lincoln out the door of their apartment.

He doesn’t come back to himself until the air hits him outside. It’s the type of warm that’s comfortable but one where a jacket is still required to keep the slight chill at bay. Still, he’s grateful for the fresh air anyway.

Octavia’s block is quiet, void from any pubs or restaurants. It just has a couple of apartment blocks and a few shops - all of which are closed now. It’s a good ten minute walk to the supermarket, a little one that stays open at night because of the gas station out front. They have to pass Harper’s building on the way, the one where Clarke used to live.

‘You alright?’ Lincoln asks when they’ve taken a few steps.

‘Yeah’ Bellamy shrugs, trying to sound casual but instead it just sounds forced. Lincoln nods, pursing his lips together as they walk in silence for a few minutes.

‘So, how do you really feel about Clarke coming back to town?’ Lincoln finally says it because it’s obviously what’s been hanging in the air between them since the apartment.

‘What do you mean?’

‘Well, I know you guys didn’t exactly get on that well. At the start.’

‘At all’ Bellamy doesn’t look at Lincoln when he says it because it’s a blatant lie and he’s already onto him. There’s no point in telling everybody now - they’d all take sides, it would make Clarke’s return a hell of a lot more complicated and besides, he doesn’t need the heat of everyone knowing his private affairs.

‘Okay’ Lincoln shoves his hands into his jacket pockets. ‘If you say so. Just a bit of a coincidence that some girl broke your heart around the same time that Clarke left town.’

‘It is what it is’ Bellamy shrugs again, keeping the lines of communication between him and Lincoln distant. They pass Harper’s place and Bellamy forces himself to stay looking at his feet, forces his heart rate to stay even.

‘So you don’t care about her coming back?’

‘Nope, other than the fact she’s going to annoy me at work.’

‘So it wouldn’t interest you to know that she has a boyfriend and he’s coming back with her?’

Bellamy stops dead in the street because his heart has literally stuttered in his chest. A cold feeling comes over him and his throat half closes, a distant ringing left in his ears at the shock of that. She left him out of nowhere and ran off to find herself a new boyfriend?

Well, not that Bellamy was her boyfriend to begin with, but still. He can’t have been the only one to feel something in their arrangement, their interactions were too real and sincere. She couldn’t have faked it - could she? Maybe he misread absolutely everything. Maybe he was the moron that fell in love with a girl that was way out of his league, that never had that kind of interest in him to begin with. Just a good fuck - exactly what she started out as for him.

Lincoln had walked a few steps ahead of Bellamy but he’s now stopped after realizing Bellamy is stuck to the sidewalk. He’s looking at him, examining the reaction that Bellamy can’t help. She’s with someone else and now he’ll have to watch them together. His stomach is sick - shit, how has he fallen this fucking hard for her?

 _How has he fallen at all?_ This isn’t the way he is.

‘She has a boyfriend?’ Bellamy meets Lincoln’s eye, his voice weak.

‘No’ Lincoln shrugs, a casual smirk on his face. ‘Just knew you’d react like that.’

If Bellamy didn’t actually like the guy, he’d punch him right in the face. The relief is overwhelming though and even though he’s still heartbroken and pissed off at her, he’s glad she isn’t coming back to the Valley with another person.

‘Fucking dick’ he steps back in time with Lincoln, shoving his shoulder as Lincoln laughs. ‘You’re lucky O loves you or I’d kick you up and down this street.’

‘Whatever’ Lincoln is still laughing, his broad shoulders jumping with each chuckle. ‘So cut the bullshit. You in love with her or something?’

Bellamy takes a deep breath, a little relieved that he’s finally talking to someone about it in an honest manner.

‘Yeah’ he admits.

‘ _How_ did that happen?’ Lincoln is still grinning, clearly baffled at the thoughts of Bellamy feeling anything akin to love for any girl not related to him, let alone Clarke. He’s been dating Octavia since her freshman year in college so he knows Bellamy pretty well. He knows he doesn’t date, knows he fucks girls like they’re going out of fashion and knows he definitely doesn’t develop feelings for anyone.

‘Like everything else with Clarke Griffin. Magic.’

_‘Hey, Princess’ Bellamy comes up behind Clarke, tucking his chin into her neck as he kisses her. He has his arms wrapped around her stomach as she cooks dinner. By the looks of it, it’s some sort of pasta dish. She pops the headphones out from her ears, turning her head slightly to give him a quick kiss back._

_‘Hey, you.’_

_‘Nice of you to let yourself in’ Bellamy grins, picking up the bowl of cherry tomatoes beside her and popping one into his mouth. He scoots up onto his island, letting his legs dangle as he watches her turn the dials on the cooker._

_She’s wearing blue, high waisted jeans with a white shirt tucked into them. Her blonde hair is tied back into her signature braid and she’s only got enough makeup on to accentuate her beautiful features. She’s nothing short of stunning._

_‘Well, you were at work all day and I got sick of job hunting so I figured I’d come by and make you dinner’ she shrugs, snatching the bowl of tomatoes back from him and wagging her figure in chastisement._

_‘Very domesticated of you’ he smirks. She’s had a key the past month now but she normally only uses it at night when she’s coming in for some surprise sex. She’s living with Harper downtown, only a five minute walk from Octavia’s building but yet, she seems to prefer the male Blake’s company of late._

_‘What can I say’ she turns her back on him. ‘I’m a rare gem.’_

_Bellamy watches her, mesmerised by the way her body moves. He studies her as she takes a bite of the pasta inside the pot and then stretches above her head to reach the salt in the cabinet. She turns to grab some seasoning from behind him, giving him a wink and a quick kiss as she does so and Bellamy’s heart flips. The way she looks at him - its like he’s all she wants in this whole world._

_Fuck._

_It’s such a simple moment, a simple interaction between the two of them but fuck, he knows. It hits him like a freight train and it’s such a foreign feeling, one he’s never experienced before - yet he knows it by name immediately. It stretches through his whole body, completing him in places he didn’t know he was missing. The feeling has no bound, no depth and no length - it’s absolute._

_He’s gone from hating this girl to enjoying her body to this. He’s in love with her, plain and simple. He loves their arrangement and he still loves how good she can make him feel in the bedroom, but it’s more than that. He loves her - as much as a person can love somebody. Her whole form, her whole personality - her._

_She definitely is a rare gem because nobody in Bellamy’s 27 years has managed to make him fall in love with them and she’s done it without even trying, like some kind of spell or witchcraft._

_It’s magic._

_It’s in the way she gives him butterflies and makes him giddy, it’s in the way he’s dying to see her again the second she leaves, it’s in the way she plays with his fingers when they’re lying on the couch - lifting them into the air and intertwining her own through them._

_He can’t manage to say it, can’t blurt it out when they clearly haven’t even discussed what they are yet. Instead, he just replies to her comment which feels odd because it’s been at least a minute since she joked about how she was a rare gem. Yet, it’s the only sentence his brain can form right now._

_‘Yeah, baby. You are.’_

Bellamy shakes the memory, letting himself be pulled back from the bright kitchen in his apartment to the dark night that surrounds them, only lit by a few street lamps.

‘Does Octavia know?’ Lincoln asks.

‘Are you kidding?’ Bellamy huffs out a breath. ‘She’d kill me for fucking her best friend.’

‘Not if she saw how happy you two are.’

‘Were’ Bellamy corrects him. ‘We’re not anything anymore.’

‘Whatever you’re fighting about, you can fix it.’

‘We’re not fighting - she just left. No explanation, nothing. Just took off to Chicago and left me here to suffer on without her.’

‘Doesn’t sound like her. Does she know how you feel about her?’ Lincoln asks as they turn in the door of the supermarket.

‘No’ Bellamy sighs. ‘Never got a chance to tell her. And I’m not going to, either. This whole situation just screams rejection and believe me, I don’t want to feel any worse than I’m already feeling.’

They pick up a different container of beer but Bellamy imagines it tastes exactly the same as the one in Octavia’s fridge, Lincoln just wanted to give him an excuse to get some air.

‘How do you think she’ll react when she gets back here and sees you with Echo?’ Lincoln asks after they’ve paid for the beer and are already making their way back to the apartment. Bellamy shrugs, brushing that off completely.

‘It’s not like we’re serious.’

‘You’re dating someone. It’s serious’ Lincoln states dryly.

‘Whatever’ Bellamy says after a moment. ‘It’s not like Clarke will give a shit - she clearly doesn’t feel the same way about me and plus, she left. She gave up her right to care about who I’m with.’

‘If you say so.’

‘Listen’ Bellamy reaches out, stopping Lincoln from walking any further. ‘Could we keep this between us? O and the others know I was seeing someone and that it was serious but they don’t know it was Clarke. I just, I don’t-’

‘I won’t say anything’ Lincoln assures him. He’s not a gossip and he stays out of a lot of things so Bellamy knows he can trust him. He just can’t trust himself to act normal when Clarke finally comes home.

-

‘I’m telling you, man’ Miller is harping on about some shit that Diyoza, the French teacher, and McCreary, the Geography teacher in their school are fucking.

‘Who cares?’ Bellamy laughs, eyes wide as to how enthusiastic Miller is about this.

‘They’ve been teaching there since we were students, how is it not compelling scandal to you that they’re hooking up?’

‘You don’t even know if it’s true’ Bellamy takes a long drink from his beer bottle. He almost chokes when Miller grabs it out of his hand and slaps it back down on the table in front of them.

The Rig is packed, given that it’s one of the more popular bars in the Valley on Saturday’s. Miller’s normal, explosive energy makes a lot of heads turn towards them after the action but the others in his group of friends just laugh.

‘Her office is literally on the other side of my wall. I can hear them!’

‘Alright, alright! You can hear them’ Bellamy says like he’s trying to calm him down but he just ends up breaking into a chuckle, picking up his beer bottle again and taking a drink more cautiously this time.

Murphy just rolls his eyes, a smirk on his face at their friend who gets too into absolutely everything, including people’s business. He shakes his head along with Bellamy, suppressing a laugh as he does so.

‘Fuck you guys’ Miller says lightly, getting up to go get a drink at the much too busy bar. He’ll never get served.

‘Why are we friends with him?’ Murphy points at Miller and Bellamy laughs.

They’ve all been friends for so long now that they could literally say anything to one another and not get offended. Lincoln chuckles a couple of seats down from them. He may not have been friends with the guys for as long as Bellamy has but he gets on with everyone like he’s been here forever. He drapes his arm around Octavia beside him and leans in to give her a kiss, casual and sweet like always. Bellamy’s grin fades from his expression, a little pinch in his heart from watching the interaction.

It pisses him off to no end to admit that he misses Clarke. He’d give anything to be able to do that with her in public - to be able to do it at all.

‘You alright?’ Echo squeezes in beside him. ‘You look like you’re not with us.’

‘No, I am’ Bellamy forces a smile, throwing his arm around Echo to bring her closer. It doesn’t feel the same, doesn’t give him the butterflies or the feeling he wants. Maybe he’s just numb to everything now.

Harper is sitting across from them, trying hopelessly to flirt with Monty like always. That girl is so into him and Monty literally sits there clueless every damn time. Bellamy’s grin flies back onto his face and when Monty gets up to go to the bathroom, Bellamy leans forward to get Harper’s attention.

‘Just tell him you like him.’

‘Fuck off’ she folds her arms, slinking back into her chair like a sullen child. ‘It’s easy for you, you just have to look at a girl sideways and they fall all over you.’ Bellamy laughs out loud at that. ‘No, I’m serious’ Harper goes on. ‘You’ve never had to tell a girl how you feel.’

‘I have and I didn’t. Missed my chance’ Bellamy admits and Harper furrows her brow. He’s never been serious with a girl before so that statement obviously shocks her. He knows by her expression that she wants more information but he just moves on from it. ‘Look, Monty would be nuts to think you’re not an amazing girl. He just has no idea you like him because he thinks you’re out of his league.’

‘You think so?’ Harper bites her lip, clearly considering this.

‘I know so’ Bellamy leans back beside Echo again. She’s looking at him, clearly wondering the exact same thing as Harper had been: who was he talking about?

The swell of chatter inside The Rig is almost deafening, the music from the jukebox barely heard over the voices and laughter. Some dance song is playing though and those who are focused on it are waving their hips to the beat in whatever space they can find.

It’s one of the groups easier nights out with no intention of going to Grounders afterwards - sometimes the bar is enough without going to the club to end the night.

Bellamy loves his friend group, even though half the time, it feels like they’re still in school. It doesn’t feel like they have jobs or responsibilities - it’s just like they’ve all come out of a class on Friday, eager to start their weekend and joke around with one another. He watches each of them, smiling as he does so.

Murphy is scanning the entire place, trying to find some poor girl that’s no match for his wit. Monty has returned from the bathroom and has fallen back into easy conversation with Harper about his job, which he loves to talk about. Harper, pretty and smitten with Monty Green, hangs onto every word. Miller is still at the bar, trying fruitlessly to get the bartender’s attention amongst the crowd of bodies there.

Octavia has leaned across to talk to Echo about some stretching exercise that she does when she’s finished a class. He’s proud of his sister - she worked hard for her degree and now she’s teaching some martial arts class while waiting for the right physiotherapist job to come her way.

When Bellamy meets Lincoln’s eye, however, he’s staring at him too hard - almost like he’s been trying to catch his eye for the last few seconds. Bellamy brow twitches at Lincoln’s serious expression, watching as he throws his stare to the front door of the bar. Bellamy follows it and his heart almost collapses after seeing the blonde girl standing there, staring at him.

_Clarke._

Bellamy drops his gaze quickly, flicking it down to the ground before glancing back at Lincoln who is just biting his lip, the concern filling every one of his features.

There’s a faint ringing in Bellamy’s ears and his heart is doing overtime. His breathing is rampant in order to keep up with it. The muscle in his jaw ticks as he clenches it and he can’t help looking back to Clarke as she just stands there staring, obviously not ready herself for seeing him again.

She looks so good - and Bellamy hates it.

‘OH MY GOD!’ Octavia suddenly screams, jumping up from her seat and racing through the crowd of bodies to reach her best friend. She flings her arms around Clarke, who breaks into a smile. The butterflies in Bellamy’s stomach fly up into his chest, fluttering around his ribcage untamed. She’s been here less than a minute and Bellamy is already losing it.

‘Clarke!’ Harper exclaims next and the rest follow in suit, standing up to greet her as she comes over to the tables. ‘What are you doing here? I thought you weren’t coming back until next week?’

Yeah - that’s what Bellamy figured too. She’d be back to start the school term so he is definitely not ready to see her now, then again, he isn’t sure he ever would have been.

‘Thought I’d surprise you guys’ she says happily but Bellamy notices the shake in her voice. Maybe he’s thrown her confidence as much as she’s thrown his, so at least he can take solace in that.

‘It’s the least you can do after leaving town without a goodbye!’ Harper shoves her shoulder lightly, meaning no harm behind the honesty.

It’s the truth, though. Regardless of what was going on between Bellamy and Clarke, she should have taken the time to say goodbye to the others. She left for the airport from Bellamy’s apartment that day and he remembers his sister and the others being so confused as to why she’d just take off so urgently without so much as a call to any of them. It all seems to be forgotten about now, though.

They each hug her, gushing over how great she looks and how much they missed her. She’s wearing a pair of loose denim jeans, rolled up at the bottom and paired with a nude pair of heels. Her black tank top is tucked into her jeans, showing off her incredible body and cleavage. That and her blonde hair pulled messily back into a braid makes Bellamy’s heart rate increase further.

Damn it.

When she turns to face him, her eyes expecting something from him, he just hopes his voice is even when he speaks.

‘Princess. Nice of you to grace us with your return.’

She gives him a tight lipped smile, sitting down in the vacant seat beside Harper. Octavia sits on the other side of her and the two of them shoot her with a series of questions about Chicago. As much as Bellamy tries, he can’t take his eyes off of her.

‘Miller’ Bellamy shouts across the bar to distract himself, making Clarke’s pretty blue eyes snap to him in the middle of her conversation with the girls. ‘Get me a shot?’

Miller nods his head, just about to order his own beer so it was perfect timing. He returns a few seconds later with his drink in one hand and Bellamy’s shot of something brown and disgusting looking.

‘What is this?’ Bellamy crinkles up his nose.

‘Shut up and drink it, Blake’ Miller scoffs. ‘Woah, hey Clarke!’

He’s swept up in his old friend after noticing her presence, giving her a hug and promising to come have a chat with her in a while. Bellamy downs his shot, wincing as the liquid burns his oesophagus on the way down. He welcomes it though, he needs the boost it will give him.

Harper and Octavia declare they’re going to the bathroom - in pairs like the two of them seem to have the habit of doing. Miller, Monty, Murphy and Lincoln are all deep in conversation at the other table so it just leaves Clarke, Bellamy and Echo at their one.

The silence is uncomfortable, despite the noise level in the bar right now. Bellamy keeps glancing at Clarke across from him, trying not to let the emotion behind the anger out.

‘So, Clarke? Is it?’ Echo takes it upon herself to introduce herself, outstretching her hand across the table which Clarke takes.

‘Yeah’ she smiles politely and Bellamy reacts without much thought behind it, grabbing the opportunity with two hands.

‘Sorry’ he starts with, trying to sound casual. ‘This is Echo, the girl I’m seeing.’

There’s a feeling of triumph when the shock appears briefly in Clarke’s eyes. It’s quickly masked but Bellamy caught it, mainly because he had been searching for it. She left him, so she shouldn’t care - but he wants her to. She knows Bellamy doesn’t date as much as the rest of them know, so the reaction could be misconstrued as surprise rather than jealousy.

‘Oh’ she seems to tame herself back into line, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. ‘How long have you guys been dating?’

‘A while’ Bellamy says simply, giving her no gauge of a timeline. It’s petulant of him, immature even - but he wants to dig up the jealousy in her if it’s there, wants her to think that he wasted no time in getting over her. Echo smiles dutifully beside him, her hand on his thigh as if for dramatic effect.

‘That’s nice’ Clarke shifts in her seat, the smile still stuck on her face. ‘So, you guys are pretty serious then?’

‘Pretty much’ Bellamy grins smugly. He feels Echo’s eyes drift to him slowly - they hadn’t really discussed that. In fact, they never even had a conversation about them being exclusive.

‘Good on you, Echo. Not many girls get to experience that side of him’ Clarke smiles a little tighter now, something that is only obvious to Bellamy because he knows every single part of her too well.

‘So I’ve been told’ Echo smiles, nudging Bellamy with her shoulder. The silence falls back after that until Bellamy excuses himself to use the bathroom, his heart elevating slightly as he brushes by his ex.

He takes a look at himself in the mirror above the sink, half covered in grime and God knows what else. The artificial light is too white, creating a circle around the sink and not much else. The rest of the bathroom is dull, shadowy and decorated in graffiti - a little unsafe Bellamy decides. He’s alone in here, at least.

His dark curls are messy and ruthless on his head, no shape or form to them whatsoever. They match in colour to the circles under his eyes, made too obvious under the bathroom light. His beard, trimmed neater now, is the only thing saving his appearance. It makes him look manly, rugged and put together.

He’s wearing a white t-shirt, fit tight around his arm muscles and contrasting nicely against his skin tone. That, combined with his black jeans - Bellamy thinks he could look worse considering he’s just ran into the love of his life unexpectedly.

‘Come on’ he mumbles to himself. ‘You can do this.’

He takes a few deep breaths, preparing himself for sitting in front of her again. Just another hour or so and he can go home, away from her. She has the audacity to come back here and act like nothing happened, question him about Echo and pretend like she didn’t break his heart by walking out of his apartment that day.

Okay - she doesn’t know she broke his heart, but that’s not the point.

He deserved an explanation before she left him, whether they were dating or not. They were friends, at least. Good friends. He couldn’t be so blind as to think it was just all him - she felt something too. Maybe not love, but something. It’s hard to fake - maybe he just read too much into what they had, or maybe she’s just a good liar. That head of hers has always been logical, intelligent enough to glide through life in whatever way she wanted.

She always told Bellamy that he’s too much ‘chest’ - thinks about everything with his heart, makes decisions with it too. He’s never been in love as far as Clarke knows, but the instinct to use the muscle was there from the very beginning. He supposes it had a lot to do with his upbringing - passionate and caring big brother, provider of his family.

Clarke’s came from her own childhood - clinical, strategic and academic. Too much ‘head’.

Yet, they seemed to balance out one another seamlessly. It’s what Bellamy loved the most about them being together - she’d rein him in if he was getting too lost in something, too attached, too focused on a student who has a struggling background.

It’s something he finds hard to separate from, especially when he sees a smaller version of himself or Octavia sitting in his classroom. He can’t bring meals to their house, can’t take matters into his own hands when a kid is being bullied. There’s protocol to follow and only so much he can actually do - something Clarke constantly reminded him of.

He provided a stable ground for her to walk on too, stopped her from getting frazzled about a phone call with her mother. Abby always liked reminding Clarke that she should have chosen the medicine route, leaving her daughter unable to complain about any aspect of her art career. It was always the same lines: ‘Have you found a job yet? Why haven’t you found work yet? What are you going to do? Art is hardly a sustainable career. You could have easily found a job with a medicine degree. It would have supported you better financially.’

Bellamy used to reassure Clarke constantly, reminding her that the right job takes time to find, that she’ll be happy every day with an art career, that her mother’s word isn’t gospel or fact or anything of the sort. He wanted to support her and her dreams, encourage her to pursue them with her heart because not everything needs to be planned out and strategized.

She told him once that they had a good balance with each other and she was right.

The heart and the head, she said.

Maybe that’s why he’s spiralling now - getting lost within himself, within his ‘chest’. He has nobody to rein him in.

When Bellamy emerges from the bathroom into the bar, Clarke is no longer sitting on the chair. In fact, he spots her just before he sits back down beside Echo, who is now engrossed in conversation with Harper. Clarke is across the bar talking to Octavia, over beside the jukebox. Arguing?

Bellamy knows his sister well enough to know when she’s angry and judging by the sharp angle of Clarke’s body language, she’s not doing much better to control her emotions. She has literally walked back through the door, what could they possibly have to argue about?

‘Hey’ Bellamy leans across to Octavia when she gets back, arms folded as she sits beside Lincoln. ‘What was that about?’

‘Nothing’ Octavia snaps, venting her frustrations on her brother. He knows better than to push her, especially not when she’s fuelled by alcohol. Instead, he leaves it and just goes back to watching the interactions of the group. He’s in no mood anymore to get sucked into their conversations so he just settles on listening without being involved.

Clarke and Octavia chat as normal after a while, their argument obviously forgotten which Bellamy is glad about - he may not get on with Clarke anymore but she’s still Octavia’s best friend, he doesn’t want that to change.

Occasionally, he catches Clarke’s eye and quickly has to correct himself by snapping his gaze away.

_She was looking at you too._

Shaking his head, he shuts the voice up. Fuck this.

Grabbing Echo’s hand, he says his goodbyes to the group and this time, he ignores Clarke’s eye completely as he leaves The Rig, hand in hand with his date, someone who actually wants to be with him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/186299654389/hung-up-on-you-a-bellarke-modern-au-written) if you want to share it and that would just make my day 💛


	2. You Let Her Go

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _Staring at the ceiling in the dark, same old empty feeling in your heart.  
>  Love comes slow and it goes so fast.  
> You see her when you fall asleep, but never to touch and never to keep.  
> Because you loved her too much and you dived in too deep.  
> But you only need the light when it's burning low, only miss the sun when it's starts to snow.  
> Only know you love her when you've let her go.  
> Only know you've been high when you're feeling low, only hate the road when you're missing home.  
> Only know you love her when you've let her go. And you let her go._   
>  **\- Let Her Go, Tyler Ward version.**

The first morning of term is always busy. The Freshmen’s are swallowed up in the abundance of students and often get lost, meaning they sometimes drift into Bellamy’s office trying to find their way.

Miller has a P.E class first thing so he sticks his middle finger up at Bellamy through his open door as he passes, professional as ever. _Jesus Christ, how did he get a job here?_

Bellamy doesn’t have class until ten but he’s come in early to prepare. The workload just seemed to reset and double, not even giving him a second to relax and ease into the new school year.

He’s just highlighting some passages for class when a knock fills his office. Lifting his head, he figures it’s another first year lost on their way to class but the wind gets knocked out of him when he double takes, noticing Clarke standing in his doorway.

‘Hi’ she says when he stares at her.

Bellamy puts his highlighter down and folds his arms, feeling immediately defensive. It’s a go-to reflex for him to put his walls up around her, to maintain his steady facade even though he’s alive inside with emotion.

He wants to yell at her, demand an explanation that he knows he doesn’t deserve, kiss her, bend her over his table and fuck her into oblivion. But he can’t - he has to swallow those feelings, contain the butterflies and dread in his stomach simultaneously, ignore the way his heart splinters further at the mere sight of her. _Control it._

‘Are you as lost as the first years?’

Clarke tongues her bottom lip in annoyance, her gaze quickly dropping to the ground and back up again as if she’s regaining control of her own. She straightens herself and steps into his office further but she leaves the door ajar, a behavioural tell that she might need a quick getaway.

‘Listen, I just wanted to make sure you’re okay’ she says, her voice playing tricks on his heart. It’s just as he remembered, clearer now that it’s not shrouded with music and bar noise. Her tone is even and soft in the quiet of his office. The faint volume level from the corridors are barely an issue, maybe it’s because the thumping in Bellamy’s ears is drowning it out. He makes a face at her, wondering if she’s for real. Coming in here like this after how they left things? Besides, does it really matter if he’s okay? She’s not going anywhere.

‘I mean, I know it must be weird that I got a job here.’

‘No teaching jobs in Chicago, no?’ He bites out.

Again, Clarke glances at the floor. He’s never seen her look so unconfident. She’s wearing a blue pair of jeans - the same ones she wore in his apartment that day when she was cooking him dinner, he thinks, - and a red flannel shirt. Her hair is in a neater braid than the other night but it just makes her look more like the Clarke he remembered.

 _No, fuck this_. Just because she looks the same doesn’t mean she is - neither of them are.

Still, she fits the Art Teacher role perfectly, not to mention how hot she looks which irks Bellamy to no end - it’s harder to hate her this way.

‘Bellamy…’

‘Clarke, the mistake your making here is presuming that I care’ he says harshly and she meets his eye again. ‘We fucked’ he shrugs, arms still folded across himself. ‘That’s all. Then you left. You didn’t feel like I was owed an explanation of why you just took off? That’s your own prerogative.’

‘So what, we just go back to hating each other now?’

‘Well, we’re hardly going back to fucking’ he snaps and she winces. He’s being an ass but he has to be - if he was to be soft with her, he doesn’t trust himself. ‘I’m seeing someone now, I’m happy.’

It’s a lie but one that achieves the desired effect because Clarke cocks her chin up, jaw clenching.

‘You didn’t take long to find a replacement.’

‘Oh no,’ Bellamy stands, hands bracing himself on his desk. ‘You don’t get to do that, Princess. You don’t get a moral high ground here.’

‘Fine, so let me get this straight,’ Clarke shifts her weight onto one leg and she transforms into the Clarke he remembers - all fire, no mercy. The confidence crashes against her like a wave and she fixes her eyes on him like she’s preparing for a fight with him, like she has done so many times before they got together. ‘What we had was just three months of good sex for you? It didn’t bother you that I ended it?’

‘Was it meant to?’ Bellamy hits back. When she doesn’t answer, he sighs. He has to swallow the truth in his throat, let the honesty die on the tip of his tongue and he realises he’s taken a second too long to continue speaking.

‘You left me - you left everyone,’ his words ring like a slap, he knows that much. ‘With no explanation or goodbyes. That bothered me. We were friends, Clarke - I deserved more than that. We all did.’

He leaves it vague, not responding to the part about what those three months meant for him. She bites her bottom lip, clearly as pissed off as he is now.

‘What? You thought I was heartbroken that you left after just being a fuck buddy for me?’ He scoffs, covering his lie from all angles. ‘Come on, Princess. Who am I? I don’t get hung up on girls, especially not ones that were supposed to be my friend and just leave without reason.’

She’s quiet for a moment as that sinks in.

‘I had my reasons.’

‘Yeah? And what were they?’

Clarke doesn’t take her eyes off him. He’s gotten good at reading her but he’s out of practice after not seeing her all summer. He thinks he sees a flash of hurt cross her irises but he’s not certain.

‘Forget it’ she turns on her heel. ‘See you around.’

Bellamy waits for a few seconds after she’s rounded the corner of his office, waits to hear her footsteps fade before he collapses back into his desk chair. He scrubs his hand through his curls, trying to calm himself and steady his heart rate.

_Fuck._

They’ve always been good at getting under each others skin - both of them understanding exactly what buttons to press to extract a good fight out of the other. At least that, if nothing else, hasn’t changed.

-

The week of school passes by quickly and Bellamy is back into routine in no time at all.

Get up, go to work, avoid Clarke and come home.

He met Echo on Wednesday night for a date, some battle movie that he really had no interest in. She left his house early on Thursday morning and he went to work feeling none of the excitement or satisfaction that he felt when he was seeing Clarke. It’s like he really is numb to everything, going through the motions of everyday life and waiting to feel something substantial.

It’s Saturday night and Octavia has been hounding him for 24 hours now about going to Grounders. He’s not fond of the club scene unless he’s looking for a hookup and even less fond of it now that he knows Clarke will be going. He had been trying to work his way out of it but his sister is nothing if not persistent.

So, here he is, sitting at a table at the edge of the club as the night gets on its way. They start with a round of tequila shots to get the ball rolling and pretty soon, Bellamy is on his fourth shot. The effects of it are setting in slowly, hazing the surroundings and giving a light buzz to his heart. He has to be careful though, too much more and his good mood will change to sadness - especially if he has to look at Clarke any longer.

She’s currently up dancing with Harper, dressed in a low cut, dark blue top which draws men and women alike to her like magnets. That, combined with the little black, leather mini skirt she’s wearing is driving him insane. He’s glad Echo has to work tonight because he’s sure she would catch him looking at Clarke like this.

_Stop it, Bellamy._

Jesus - this is how he got into this mess in the first place, checking her out and deciding she isn’t hard on the eyes.

_Bellamy doesn’t feel 27. It’s a weird age to be turning - he feels like he should have something more concrete in his life at this age. Back when he was in his early teens, he looked at people this age and thought they had their lives completely together. He at least expected to be in a serious relationship at this point but as time went on, he just didn’t want that._

_‘Happy birthday!’ Octavia cheers when he opens his apartment door to her._

_‘It’s technically tomorrow’ he retorts with a grin._

_‘In like a few hours’ she rolls her eyes. ‘Once midnight comes, you’re officially old. Now move and let me in.’_

_There’s a crowd already in his apartment, Miller, Monty and Murphy along with some people he went to college with and a few girls that they brought along with them. He stands aside to let his sister in and she throws her arms around his neck as she enters, giving him a kiss on the cheek._

_‘Be nice’ she mutters into his ear and he furrows his brow, confused until he sees Clarke Griffin following Lincoln and Harper that are next to come in._

_‘Seriously?’ He groans, loud enough for only Octavia to hear._

_‘She’s our friend.’_

_‘She’s not mine!’_

_‘Happy birthday, loser’ Clarke gets within earshot and he just rolls his eyes, not that she’s even looking at him. She’s too busy scanning the crowd, head already moving to the sound of the music bursting through his apartment. Bellamy greets the others and closes the door, already in poor humour after seeing her._

_‘There’s got to be some universal rule that states people you hate can’t turn up to your party’ he mutters to Miller as he gets himself another beer from his kitchen, watching Clarke as she throws her head back laughing with Octavia. She’s over at his balcony doors, her blonde hair shining from the lights in his apartment. Her hair is braided, complimenting the tight, blue dress she’s wearing quite well._

_‘You don’t hate her’ Miller scoffs, glancing up at Clarke and back down._

_‘I don’t like her’ Bellamy mumbles._

_‘You sure?’ Miller winks, leaving him to groan in annoyance. Yes, he’s pretty fucking sure - even if she is hot. Her cleavage shows nicely in that dress and it’s figure hugging, showing off her amazing curves in all the right places. The colour suits her, making her hair and eye colour pop._

_Whatever._

_He enjoys the celebration of his birthday and catches up with friends, drinks more than his fair share of alcohol and even chats up some girls. They’re pretty and flirty, down for a good time for sure - but he can’t bring himself to be interested enough in them to take them up on any of their advances._

_It’s around 3am when the last of the party clears out but Miller is still there, passed out on the living room couch. Harper has fallen asleep on Monty’s shoulder, sitting on the floor with their backs against the armchair. Murphy left with Octavia and Lincoln half an hour ago, stating that ‘he can’t handle late nights anymore’ all too loudly in his drunken state._

_Bellamy slides his balcony door open, feeling like he needs some fresh air before he heads to bed himself. He decides it was a good night overall until he finds Clarke out there, elbows leaning against the railing as she looks out at the town with a wine glass between her fingers._

_He grits his teeth, already too far out to turn around now so he just closes the door behind him. The noise attracts her attention, blue eyes finding him over her shoulder but she doesn’t change her posture. Her dress is almost backless, save for the thin straps that criss-cross against her shoulder blades. Bellamy has to swallow the scoff, the irritation that she looks so good._

_‘Birthday boy’ she says in that tone she reserves just for him. It’s teasing and condescending and annoys Bellamy to no end._

_‘Princess’ he bites back. ‘Bit past your royal bedtime?’_

_‘A royal has no bedtime’ she retorts, her quick wit and ability to play along with jests showing through. Bellamy has to admit, she’s well able for him. He joins her against the balcony railing, the hand that isn’t holding his glass curls around the icy bar. It’s a cold March and yet, the alcohol warms his body in these early hours of the morning. They fall into an easy silence, just staring at the lights of the town in front of them._

_‘Did you have a good night?’ She asks after a few minutes, still looking forward._

_‘Yeah’ he replies. ‘Beats Grounders.’_

_‘The Rig beats Grounders’ she deadpans, referring to the dingy bar they sometimes drink in. Grounders may be a modernised club but it can get too crowded and too full of drunken idiots at times._

_‘True’ he finds himself smirking. She may be a spoilt little rich kid who uses every opportunity she can find to look down on him, but goddammit, this girl makes him smile. ’At least we could escape from them this weekend, anyway.’_

_‘Yeah, although your birthday guests didn’t offer as much talent as the club would’ she shrugs, still not looking at him._

_‘Didn’t find anyone to suit your standards, Princess?’_

_He’s noticed Clarke taking home people before, men and women alike, and they all were outrageously good-looking. She’s been on a few dates as well, if Octavia’s gossip is anything to go by, but none of them seem to make the cut to stay in her life longer than a couple of weeks or so._

_‘Nope’ she says honestly, unashamed of the dig that lay behind his words. ‘What about you? No birthday sex for turning 27?’_

_‘As you said, not much talent in there tonight.’_

_‘Seemed like some of the girls were eager’ she raises her eyebrows which Bellamy catches, glancing at her side profile from the corner of his eye. Sure, there were some girls inside that were more than willing to get down, but they just didn’t do it enough for him to bother._

_‘Since when do you pay attention to who’s flirting with me?’ He smirks, even though he knows he pays attention to who is flirting with her on nights out too. He might not like the girl but it doesn’t mean he wants anything to happen to her. He’d definitely step in if he thought anyone was being too hands on and she didn’t want it. That’s the only reason he watches her interactions - purely protective._

_‘I don’t’ she scoffs. ‘Just think it’s unfair - every adult deserves an orgasm on their birthday.’_

_‘It would have topped off the night’ he admits. ‘But whatever.’_

_He made his choice - he didn’t want any of those girls, no matter how attractive or down to fuck they were. He sleeps with girls every weekend, none of them any different than the one before - none of them leaving a lasting impression. Maybe it’s the sensibility coming out in him at 27, maybe now is the year he’s ready for something more meaningful. He’ll have to see how he progresses throughout the year but it would be something to keep in mind. He’s so lost in his own thoughts about it that he barely hears Clarke when she speaks._

_‘You want one?’_

_‘What?’ He snaps his head to hers, finding her already looking at him. Her blue eyes, muted by the night, are sharp on him and full of the confidence she owns so well. He must have misheard her, misunderstood her offer._

_‘Do you want one? An orgasm?’_

_Bellamy, for the first time in his life, is speechless. Why would Clarke want to do that for him? He’s such an ass to her._

_‘It’s not like I got you anything for your birthday’ she shrugs one shoulder, looking sexy as fuck when she does it._

_‘You don’t have to’ he croaks, voice shot to hell. ‘Get me anything, I mean.’_

_‘Bellamy’ she straightens herself, facing him. ‘Do you want a blowjob or not?’_

_Despite all sense and reason, despite all logic and fact, Bellamy finds himself nodding. Fuck, is he really agreeing to this?_

_It’s not like he cares if their friendship will be affected because they don’t have one and if Clarke were to walk out of his life in the morning, he wouldn’t give a damn either._

_She walks towards him and he lets her push him gently to the corner of the balcony, out of sight from anyone who might wake up inside. The entire place is dark enough that they won’t be seen from the street or other buildings, he thinks, but hell - if someone were to look up and see them, Bellamy can’t say that it wouldn’t turn him on more._

_Clarke bends, unzips his jeans and pulls his cock out. He’s already hard which he can’t really explain - he knows Clarke is hot as hell but normally her attitude would kill every boner he’d ever think of getting. Still, she must affect him severely because his cock is practically throbbing with want. Looking at her in that little blue dress - Jesus, it’s a sight to be seen._

_‘Just a once off thing - for your birthday’ she says before taking his cock into her smart mouth and then Bellamy is a goner. He can’t even answer, a moan in his throat replacing the response he had. She’s gentle with him at first, giving soft sucks and kitten licks as she pumps the rest of his length with her hand. Without inflating his own ego, he knows he’s bigger than average so he’s surprised when after a minute or so, she takes him down the back of her throat with ease._

_‘Fuck, Princess.’_

_When she moans, it vibrates through him and damn, how he doesn’t come there and then is a miracle. He drops his head, watching her outline in the dark. Her blonde hair hides most of her but occasionally, he sees the way his cock slides into her mouth and it extracts another guttural moan from his throat. She’s squirming a little so he juts his head out, trying to see what she’s doing and his heart almost stops when he catches a glimpse of her free hand between her legs._

_‘Jesus, Clarke - are you getting off on this?’_

_She moans in response and it’s all the confirmation he needs. He’s been with a lot of girls but never has he experienced something like this. Not only is this girl talented at head but she actually enjoys giving it. Fuck, how is he supposed to look at her and not get hard after this?_

_The chill in the air makes the goosebumps come alive on his skin but then he wonders if Clarke is the one giving them to him - the same as he wonders if the buzz in his body is from the alcohol or from this girl._

_‘I’m going to come soon’ he announces, warning her in case she wants to pull off him but she doesn’t - in fact, she sucks him harder, swallowing him as much as she’s able. Before long, stars are starting to appear in Bellamy’s vision and he’s coming - harder than he’s ever come before. Clarke takes every bit of him, swallowing like she was starving for it._

_He’s practically panting, dizzy from that whole experience. It was unbelievable._

_‘Happy birthday, Bellamy’ she says breathlessly as she stands, adjusting herself. Bellamy can’t help himself - he pulls her into him in one fluid motion. She tastes of him when his lips meet hers and she kisses him with an intricate finesse considering both of them have had a bit to drink. She’s a good kisser which is unsurprising - she seems to have a talent with her mouth, both when she’s throwing smart comments his way and giving him pleasure._

_Her hands slide up until they are around his neck, pulling him into her more and more. She’s worked up from giving him head and he intends to help her out, too. He may be a player but he’s not a selfish one._

_‘Bedroom?’ He gasps between their kisses, breathless and already growing hard again. She nods against him eagerly and so, they make their way through his living room as quietly as they can so as not to wake their friends. Once on his bed, he strips her of her amazing blue dress so he can appreciate her body in its natural form. She’s too beautiful, moonlight painting light slits on her naked body through his blinds._

_The swell of her breasts is incredible, not disappointing the image he had of them in his mind. He always knew she was well blessed in that area, as much as it irritated him to admit that there were a few aspects of Clarke Griffin that he liked._

_He gets her off once with his head between her legs and by the time she’s come down from her high, he’s almost twice as hard as he was before. Still, he doesn’t want to push her - she did him a favour tonight, that’s all. Maybe she’s satisfied enough without wanting to go any further, it’s not like tonight means anything to either of them so maybe she doesn’t want to fuck._

_He’s shown otherwise when Clarke shoves him back until he’s sitting against the headboard of his bed, surprising him when she straddles him._

_‘You sure you want to do this, Princess?’ His voice is low, an octave lower than normal. He desperately wants to fuck her because if their previous encounters are anything to go by, he’s sure that she’ll be the best fuck of his life. Still, he doesn’t want to presume anything of her either._

_‘What do you think?’ She says breathlessly, kissing him lazily as she still regains her strength from her orgasm. ‘You clean?’_

_‘Yeah’ he pants, hands tracing up her back as she bites his lip, fingers tugging at his curls._

_‘Me too - and on the pill.’_

_‘Fuck me, then’ he’s too eager, lost in the pleasure of having her like this. She lifts her body a little and reaches down, lining his cock up to her entrance._

_‘Just tonight, though, right?’ She mumbles against his lips as she sinks down on top of him. The feeling of her in that moment is something Bellamy will never get out of his head and even though he nods against her kiss, he’s not sure if he can promise that this birthday fuck will be just a once off._

‘What are you thinking about?’ Lincoln nudges Bellamy back to reality, the smell of artificial smoke from the club and the music thumping through the speakers assaulting his senses.

‘Nothing’ he mumbles, trying to stop is heart from racing by taking a drink from his glass. He watches Clarke return to their table with Harper, laughing as she comes up the dance floor steps.

How did they get here? To the point where they messed up something that was never meant to be something at all. They weren’t friends when they started this and now they’re not friends ending it. It was the way it was meant to be when he started this, except now he wishes more than anything that it was different.

The familiar pain pierces his chest and he isn’t sure how much longer he can keep this up for. It feels like he’ll never move on, never know what it feels like not to love her.

‘Clarke!’ Miller calls to her as she sits down and he pretty much steals Harper’s seat as he plonks down beside her. ‘We haven’t had time to catch up at all.’

‘It’s hard to see you in the school’ Clarke grins as Miller throws his arm around her shoulders.

‘We missed you, how was your summer?’

‘Fine’ Clarke smiles tightly and Bellamy’s stomach churns. He doesn’t want to sit across from them, doesn’t want to hear about how she spent her summer away from him - _because_ of him. ‘Just hung out with my mom a lot, spent some time with Raven.’

‘Oh, that girl that your ex cheated on you with?’

‘No, that girl that my ex was dating and didn’t tell me about when we got together’ Clarke rolls her eyes. ‘We’re good friends, she actually got some aerospace job here in the Valley so she’s going to be moving up in a few days.’

‘Awesome - you’ll have to introduce us’ Miller says, ever the socialite. ‘Well you missed nothing here, other than us having to have an intervention with Muscles over there’ Miller beckons to Bellamy with his thumb and Clarke’s eyes drift to him, brow furrowed. Bellamy’s cheeks grow hot and his heart starts to increase in speed again.

‘Miller’ he warns, a low threat in his voice.

‘What do you mean?’ Clarke adverts her gaze back to his idiot best friend, curiosity filling her features. Bellamy feels Lincoln’s eyes on him, probably just as aware as Bellamy is about the future of this conversation.

‘Get this, right?’ Miller adjusts himself in his seat, turning into Clarke more - ever the gossip. ‘This girl really did a number on him.’

‘ _Miller!_ ’ Bellamy snaps, anger filling him. Shit - he doesn’t want him to tell her this, especially not when he told her that he wasn’t hung up on her after she left.

‘Relax, man’ Miller’s eyes widen. ‘It’s just Clarke.’

 _Yeah - it’s just the girl that this whole thing is about_. Not that his best friend is aware of that, but still. Bellamy inhales through his nose, biting the inside of his lip as a muscle in his jaw ticks.

‘Anyway’ he continues. ‘Never seen him like this - you know how he is with girls, couldn’t give a damn if he never seen them again. But this mystery girl’ Miller exaggerates with his hands. ‘He was seeing her for three months under wraps. Three months! Then out of no-where, gone.’

‘Is that so?’ Clarke says evenly, knowing that this completely contradicts the version that Bellamy fed to her.

‘Hey, Miller?’ Lincoln tries to interrupt but Miller just holds up a finger, gesturing to him that he’ll just be a minute.

‘Yeah! Couldn’t get Bellamy out of his apartment for three weeks. He didn’t shower, barely ate and the place looked and smelled like a garbage site - he took the three weeks off work and everything.’

Clarke is staring at Bellamy as Miller continues to ramble, her eyes growing from confused to shocked to sad. Bellamy can only look at her in quick darts, flicking his stare from her to the ground and keeping the pattern like that as she learns the truth.

‘We had to drag him to Grounders after that - enough was enough’ Miller says. ‘All good then, fucked some blonde girl that night and he slowly came back to himself.’

Clarke’s eyes close momentarily at that part but other than that, she hasn’t taken her eyes off of Bellamy, pain in them as she studies him. Bellamy is managing to hold her eye contact more steadily now, pissed off that Miller has told her all of that but relieved that he left out the part of when Bellamy told the boys that he was in love with the mystery girl.

‘Miller?’ Lincoln calls him over the music. ‘Let’s go get another round of shots for the tables.’

Miller, thank God, goes with him and Lincoln gives Bellamy’s leg a subtle tap under the table, a gesture symbolising that he has him covered. Bellamy thanks every deity out there for his sister’s boyfriend in that moment but he doesn’t realise that he’s basically alone with Clarke until after they’re gone. Octavia and the others are at the next table, too caught up in their own conversations to be noticing the tension at his one.

The club is too loud but the silence between them is louder. The anger and resentment on top of the shame he feels at his weakness being spoken aloud like that just fuels his reaction when he finally moves. His whole body is tense, hard as he shoves himself up from his seat and pushes himself out to leave the table. Clarke stands just as quick to intercept him.

‘Bellamy’ her voice is full of pity when it comes out and he hates it. No, fuck this.

‘Don’t flatter yourself, Princess’ he bites out as he slides his body past hers. He’s right by her ear on the way so that the anger in his voice is obvious to her in case she’d miss it amongst the music. ‘I was just pissed that you took the cowards way out and left without having the decency to tell any of us why. As you heard, it took no more than a quick fuck to get over that.’

He achieves what he wants from it because when he’s halfway across the club, he checks back over his shoulder to see Clarke like a statue, right where he left her, floored by his words.

-

Bellamy manages to avoid Clarke all the way up to Friday.

He’s spent the week miserable, replaying Miller’s conversation with her in his head.

 _Fuck_ , she could have found out there and then that he’s in love with her. How would he look then? A complete fool. The loser who fell in love with his fuck buddy, a girl who left for Chicago without so much as a goodbye. He doesn’t know if it’s more humiliating to feel this way and know Clarke doesn’t feel the same way back or to have fallen for her in the fucking first place.

Goddamnit, this is not who he is. He’s never been in love before, never wanted to be and yet, here he is.

It had just blossomed his foul humour to its full potential as the days went on - he even gave one of his students detention for something minor in class yesterday, something that on any other day, he would have let slide.

He told Echo that he couldn’t see her on Wednesday night for their date, making the excuse that he had a lot of work to do for his classes this week. Really, he just couldn’t bare being fake anymore. He can’t plaster on a smile and pretend everything is alright, not when he’s dying inside. He really needs to finish things with Echo, it isn’t fair to her.

He knew Clarke coming back would be hard considering how difficult he found it when she wasn’t here, but he hadn’t anticipated this.

_Fuck, how is he going to get through this?_

‘Hey, big brother’ Octavia’s chirpy voice comes through his phone when Bellamy answers it. He’s walking down the school hallway on his way to the lunch room - it’s his turn to supervise.

‘Hey’ he answers, a little too short.

‘Everything okay?’ She asks, immediately concerned. She knows him well enough to detect even the smallest hint of a tone change in his voice, even on the phone.

‘Fine’ he says tersely, watching his footsteps as he talks. There’s not much students left in the hallways, some still at their lockers before lunch so he doesn’t have to check where he’s going. He’s so used to these corridors by now, could walk them with his eyes closed.

‘Don’t buy that, but whatever. I was just calling to see if you’re coming to The Rig tomorrow night?’

‘I’ve reached my drinking quota for this month, O’ he replies dryly.

He was out last weekend and he ended up leaving early because of Miller’s big mouth. He really doesn’t want to see Clarke again and by some miracle, he’s done a good job of dodging her presence in school all week.

‘Stop complaining. You sound like you deserve a drink.’

 _‘It fucking is!’_ He hears the curse and Bellamy stops, looking up from the floor now to the classroom ahead of him on the right. _Clarke’s classroom_. ‘This is my fucking work!’

‘O, I’ll call you back.’

Hanging up, he takes tentative steps until he’s close enough to glance into the room subtly. The room is empty, save for one student and Clarke. She’s leaning against her desk, arms folded and a frown on her face. John, a hard-headed junior from the school is all snarls and attitude in front of her, rattling a sketch pad as he argues with her.

‘It isn’t. Charlotte reported it missing and now you want me to grade this? When I know it’s not yours?’ Clarke is firm and confident in her tone but Bellamy knows she’s trying to keep her temper in check. Both students are in his history class and he knows why Clarke is irritated - Charlotte is a quiet girl and his Princess has always had a thing for defending the underdogs.

‘How do you know it’s not mine? You don’t know my talent, even if you are some ‘hot shot’ at the subject - yeah, you probably know it all after being a teacher here a full hour’ John retorts, his brazen attitude deserving a lot more than a detention.

‘Don’t patronise me, Mr. Mbege. I’m not grading this work as yours.’

‘Fuck you!’

‘Hey!’ Bellamy snaps, unable to listen any longer. Two pairs of eyes jolt to him in the doorway where they see his shoulders are squared and his form tight with the anger bubbling inside of him. ‘Check yourself, Mbege.’

‘Sir, she-’

‘ _She_ is your teacher. Show a bit of respect.’

Clarke is staring at Bellamy, her blonde hair pulled into a loose braid with tendrils of her locks around her face from it falling out through-out the day. She has paint on her jeans and she’s wearing a blue flannel shirt today which makes her look too good to be considered fair - blue has always been her colour.

Mbege looks like he could argue but he knows better, too clever to land himself in trouble with Bellamy. Clarke is still making her mark here but Bellamy has the experience, has the authority and respect demanded already from teaching the students a couple of years longer than her.

‘Yes, sir’ Mbege resigns, looking annoyed as hell at being caught yelling at Clarke.

‘Apologise’ Bellamy instructs, voice low and cool as he stares hard at him. Mbege shuffles on his feet, looking sheepishly at Clarke who awaits his repentance.

‘Sorry’ he mumbles and hands her the sketch pad.

‘Detention’ she replies as she takes it from him, ruthless. It makes a swell of pride erupt in Bellamy’s heart - she’s right, she can’t let this slide or they’ll never respect her in her classroom. He can’t always be here to control the room. Besides, Mbege deserves it - stealing another student’s property and trying to pass off Charlotte’s work as his own, on top of cursing and disrespecting a member of faculty?

Clarke is going easy on him, come to think of it.

Mbege closes his eyes, the annoyance brimming under the surface but he doesn’t let it out this time. He sulks off, brushing by Bellamy who keeps his gaze on him the entire time until he’s disappeared down the hallway.

When Bellamy looks back, Clarke’s eyes are softer now as she awaits his attention.

‘Thank you’ she says quietly after a few moments.

Guess that innate urge to protect her never left. It’s a package deal when you care about someone, protectiveness being a built in expansion pack.

The reflex to defend her remained simmering under the surface of his skin and Bellamy suddenly wonders if he had any right to. He’s hurt her and disrespected her much more than Mbege just had - and maybe that’s what dissipates his anger. Clarke doesn’t deserve the treatment he’s been dishing out to her, just because he was hurting. Guilt crashes over him in waves and then something else follows it up - fear.

There’s a weightless feeling on Bellamy now and for the first time since Clarke came back, he has no anger in him as he looks at her. He has nothing left and that, more than anything else he’s felt, scares him. If he can’t be angry with her anymore, where does that leave him?

‘Don’t worry about it’ he replies, his voice too easy and gentle for her presence and Clarke notices it immediately.

‘Bellamy’ she starts but he’s already pushed off the doorframe, walking off down the hall towards the lunch room. She comes out after him and he hears her calling him again, voice echoing off the walls as he steps further and further away from her. He can’t turn back, can’t let her see the sheer and utter heartbreak on his face that is finally taking dominance in his body.

He just wants to lie down and sleep - hating Clarke Griffin like this, it’s exhausting.

He doesn’t want to do it anymore.

-

‘Hey, you okay?’ Echo says breathlessly, slipping into the front seat of Bellamy’s car and shaking off the water from her facial features. Her dash from the main entrance to his car had done nothing to prevent her from getting drenched. The rain is slapping off the car windscreen, creating a soothing noise for an uneasy conversation.

Bellamy drove right to her work after his own, unable to carry on pretending that he can keep doing this. The desire to prove to himself that he can move on has vanished, leaving the truth in its wake. He can’t move on, not when he’s more in love with Clarke Griffin than ever.

Luckily, the gym Echo works at is just a couple of blocks away because Bellamy is dying to just go to bed - he wouldn’t have made it if she had been the whole way across town.

‘We need to talk’ he says, fidgeting with his keyring hanging from the ignition.

‘Sounds serious’ Echo replies, settling herself and flicking her damp hair out from underneath her collar. Bellamy takes a breath - he’s never actually done this before. He’s never dated anyone, so what’s the best way to end it?

His heart is steady - maybe a clear sign that what he has with Clarke is real because he could never be this calm around her. Or maybe it’s just emotional numbness, his heartbreak forbidding him from feeling anything anymore.

‘I think I need to take a step back from this’ he goes with, not wanting to come off like an ass because he doesn’t want to hurt her. He doesn’t know how much Echo likes him and he hopes her expectations for where this was going weren’t too high - even though he practically told Clarke in front of Echo that they were serious. God, he’s such an idiot. That wasn’t fair.

‘I think that’s a good idea’ Echo surprises him, making him lift his head to meet her eyes. ‘You need to work out your thing with Clarke.’

‘What?’ Bellamy gapes, looking at her like she just suggested they murder some orphaned children.

‘Come on’ Echo half smiles. ‘You don’t think I’ve seen you around her? Bellamy, how has everyone else not noticed?’

Bellamy is literally frozen to his seat. His mouth is permanently open, eyes wide as he takes in what Echo is saying. This is definitely not how he expected this conversation to go.

‘I enjoyed our dates, Bellamy. You’re a good man and a good fuck, but I wasn’t about to let myself develop feelings for you. Not when I could see what was happening’ she says. ‘I knew it from the second I met you at Grounders that you were walking around as fraction of a man. At your sisters, you only broke further after hearing about Clarke’s return. By the time she walked into The Rig, you were right back to square one.’

‘Echo…’ he says stupidly, not having anything prepared to follow it. He’s at a complete loss.

‘Whatever happened between the two of you is none of my business, and I wasn’t going to talk to you about it. I was going to leave it up to you if you wanted to bring it up - but now, I can’t let you leave without telling you that you can’t keep going on like this.’

‘I just don’t know what to do’ he croaks out, focusing his gaze on the rain droplets pummelling down his windscreen. ‘She doesn’t want me like I want her.’

‘I’m not sure that’s true’ Echo smirks knowingly, like she has the wisdom of the entire world inside her head.

‘I’m just, I’m so sorry. I never meant to lead you on or…’

‘Bellamy’ Echo stops him. ‘It’s fine. I never expected anything more because I knew this wasn’t serious for you. And to be honest, I’m not really at a place in my life where I need something serious. Just for your own sake, try to work it out.’

All he can do is nod, emotion threatening to spill out through his eyes if he lets it. He wasn’t fair to Echo one bit and she’s sitting here, completely understanding it all. Fuck.

She leans her arm over, stroking his jawline gently with her thumb.

‘Take care of yourself. Call me if you ever want some fun’ she smiles, although the action is doused more in concern rather than playfulness. With that, she gets out of his car and waves goodbye, making another quick dash through the rain to return to work. She’s a good person - whenever she is ready to settle down, the man that gets her will be very lucky.

Bellamy closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the headrest a little too hard, just for good measure. Echo had been an easy thing to iron out - Clarke is much more complicated.

He should feel better to have one thing sorted in his life but the burning pain still resides inside of him, just as intense as ever. Damn it.

Things are so fucking messed up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/186299654389/hung-up-on-you-a-bellarke-modern-au-written) if you want to share it and that would just make my day 💛


	3. Salvation

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> _I can't seem to drown you out long enough. I fell victim to the sound of your love.  
>  You're like a song that I ain't ready to stop. I got nothing but you on my mind.  
> I'm not ready to be just another of your mistakes.  
> Don't wanna let the pieces fall out of place.  
> I was only just a breath removed from going to waste, 'til I found salvation in the form of your,  
> your grace._   
>  **\- Grace, Lewis Capaldi.**

Bellamy is stupid drunk before he can catch himself.

The Rig isn’t as packed as it normally is, which suits him just fine in one way. He doesn’t have to fight his way for drinks at the bar, he can move without banging into someone at every turn and the bathrooms are free of lines. In another way though, it’s a curse. There’s barely anyone here to distract him from Clarke - no girls too look at, nobody except his friends to make conversation with.

Echo and him are over, so it just leaves Murphy, Monty and Miller being his best forms of company. Octavia and Lincoln have been displaying too much PDA tonight for Bellamy to even want to hang out with them and Harper has spent most of the night dancing with Clarke - who he has definitely been trying to avoid.

The air between them isn’t as hostile though and Clarke seems to know it. She’s giving him a weird amount of space, respecting his need to be away from her which isn’t like her at all. Normally, it feels like she’s dying to catch his eye, almost like she’s living in hope for a conversation. He thinks she knows that he’s done now - the anger is gone, giving way to the sadness that was desperately trying to win all along.

He misses her. There, he admitted it. He misses her more than breathing and loves her twice as much. He misses the mornings when he’d open his eyes and see the creamy skin of her naked shoulder beside him - inviting him over to kiss it and spoon up behind her. He misses the little noises she’d make when she was still half asleep, cuddling in close to him to lull her back to her dreams. He misses how hard he’d laugh when she did a stupid impression or how invested he got in one of her stories. He misses her laughing at him, the way she’d throw her head back because her body could barely contain so much joy. He misses kissing her and the warm feeling that came with it. More than anything though, he misses seeing her and not feeling that sharp pain in his chest - the one that reminds him that he can do nothing but look at her, if even that.

Fuck, he just misses her.

He catches her glancing at him a few times during the night but she averts her gaze quickly afterwards, clearly not wanting to stir the emotions inside of him. Maybe she’s afraid that he’ll blow up, spew angry words at her right now and with it, the secret of their relationship - out in the open for everyone to finally know about.

‘Who is _that_?’ Murphy nearly chokes beside him and when Bellamy checks the door, a brunette is striding through it as confident as anything. Her hair is tied into a ponytail and her eyes are bright, pierced on Clarke who lets out a scream when she sees her.

‘My guess is Clarke’s friend, Raven’ Miller answers as they watch the interaction from the side of the dance floor. It’s probably too small to be even considered one but the girls have no problem making it work. The jukebox seems sufficient enough to blast out music and considering the small crowd in here tonight, they are taking full advantage of all the space.

‘Back in a sec’ Murphy puts his drink down on the bar behind him, making a beeline over to where Raven and Clarke are beaming at one another. Miller and Monty both laugh but Bellamy can’t keep his eyes off Clarke. She’s so beautiful, dressed in a simple grey sweater tucked into a black skirt - paired with her black ankle boots that Bellamy knows she favours over everything else she owns.

He, himself, is wearing his black long sleeve and jeans. He didn’t purposefully choose it because Clarke always loved it on him but with the way his head is right now, he’s starting to second guess himself. Maybe he did.

Monty ends up following Murphy, seemingly using this as an opportunity to chat with Harper and Miller mentions something about a cigarette but Bellamy barely hears him - barely turns his head to see him walk out to the back area designated for smoking. He’s alone now, nothing to distract him at all.

A stupid slow song is playing on the jukebox, one that resonates with Bellamy too much. It toys with him, plays on his vulnerability and fragility right now and he resents the singer for making his heart want to burst open with emotion.

_‘I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes.’_

Clarke throws her head back laughing at Murphy’s awkward effort to flirt with Raven and Bellamy’s gut twists. She’s radiant.

_‘I can’t seem to drown you out long enough.’_

She nods at Raven subtly and Bellamy knows she’s silently communicating to her friend that Murphy is a good guy. He knows her like the back of his hand, remembers every little detail about her because he subconsciously spent every second meticulously studying Clarke Griffin when they were together.

_‘I fell victim to the sound of your love.’_

Bellamy forces himself to take a breath but he can’t pull his eyes from her - the ability to do that vanished with his last drink.

_‘You’re like a song that I ain’t ready to stop.’_

Shit, why is he even here? This is a bad idea - alcohol is lowering his inhibitions further and he’s already weak as hell around her, especially now that he can’t summon the anger anymore.

_‘I got nothing but you on my mind.’_

Clarke is smirking, watching the interaction between Murphy and Raven until her eyes move. She searches the bar until she lands on Bellamy, her gaze sticking then.

_‘I’m not ready to be just another of your mistakes.’_

It feels like his throat is closing. She always had this power over him, like she could ask him to commit genocide with her and he’d fucking do it. He has pushed it away for so long but it’s like trying to peel off your shadow - eventually, the realisation will come that it’s impossible.

_‘Don’t wanna let the pieces fall out of place.’_

She flicks her gaze down to her boots, like he affects her too. When she pulls at the neck of her sweater, Bellamy knows she needs air. It’s why it doesn’t surprise him to see her walking in his direction so as to make her way out to the smoking area.

_‘I was only just a breath removed from going to waste.’_

Bellamy has no say in any of his thoughts right now - all he can think about is how much he misses her and how the pain is suddenly too much. The entire summer spent trying to get over her and shove her away now feels futile. He still needs her. He still loves her.

_’’Til I found salvation in the form of your, your grace.’_

Bellamy’s hand shoots out when Clarke passes him, grabbing her forearm so as to stop her. The contact makes his heart spike and his breath is already coming out laboured, clearly thrown by the intimacy of having her so close. His brain took no part in that action. Fuck.

Clarke’s bright eyes lock on his before flicking down to where his hand is touching her skin. She steps back into his space, facing him now as he seemingly loses all sense of the word ‘control’. She’s not half as drunk as him, so Bellamy doesn’t miss her eyes darting around the place - checking if their friends have noticed the interaction. The worrying part is that Bellamy doesn’t care anymore.

He leans down, pressing his forehead against Clarke’s as he gives in to her gravity, to this invisible pull she seems to have over him. He hears her inhale sharply over the song and the intimate proximity between them is palpable. Bellamy can smell her perfume this close and he doesn’t know whether to blame his light-headedness on alcohol or on Clarke herself. She’s the smartest, kindest, funniest and most beautiful girl he’s ever known to exist. A force to be reckoned with, a bubble that traps him in between her walls every single time - how can he pull himself away now?

‘Bellamy’ she breathes, closing her eyes and he follows suit. The whole bar fades away then - it’s just him and this girl, head to head, their breaths mingling. The only thing grounding him is his fingers on her arm. He basks in this moment of having her close again, his resolve completely shattered now.

It’s why it doesn’t surprise him one bit to end up bursting in a bathroom door with her.

He’s too drunk - too lost in Clarke to think about any of their friends seeing them, to check if they’re alone in here, to notice if it was the men’s or ladies bathroom or to even be wondering if this is a good idea or not. All he can think about is how good it feels to have his lips on hers again.

The door swings closed behind them and the music dies a little with it, becoming just a heavy murmur through the walls now. Bellamy can’t form a comprehensive thought, way too wrapped up in the situation here.

His tongue is dancing over Clarke’s and she’s all sighs and moans, biting his bottom lip for good measure when he lifts her onto the sink a little too hard. Her thighs wrap around his waist and he kneads the soft skin there, teasingly close to where she really wants him. He curls his fingers around her neck, pulling her closer, fumbling a little in his drunken state because apparently, it’s hard to maintain any finesse while intoxicated.

He swallows her moans while she pushes herself against him, both of them desperate for one another after months apart. Bellamy isn’t surprised why people do drugs - if this is what it feels like to be high on something, he never wants to come down.

When he’s kissing her neck, sucking on that special spot that drives her wild, he opens his eyes and sees his reflection in the grubby mirror behind them. He looks fucking wrecked - and he is, for her. His eyes make no effort to hide how drunk he is though and his hair is messy from having Clarke’s fingers through it. His mirror image may look just as drunk as him, but he’s a reminder of everything else. Sense screams at him from the pit of where he’s hidden it:

_‘You’ve spent too long trying to get over this, now you’ll have to start all over again.’_

_‘Clarke will no longer believe that you don’t want her, that you don’t care. Your facade is up.’_

_‘Anyone could have seen you and anyone could walk in, making this thing miles more complicated.’_

Bellamy slams his eyes shut. He can’t think about any of this right now, especially not when Clarke pulls him even closer - demanding his undivided attention.

Making the decision then, he lifts her from the sink and carries her around his waist into a cubicle. Her mouth doesn’t leave his and once the door is locked behind them, Bellamy wastes no time in unbuckling his belt and freeing himself, slipping a condom on from his wallet while Clarke balances herself against the wall as he works. She shoves her hand through her hair, closing her eyes for a moment which leads Bellamy to believe that she’s thinking about the dangers here too.

It doesn’t stop her though because once he’s ready, she raises her leg so he can lift her into position. Clarke’s skirt gives him easy access so he merely tugs her underwear to the side and slides into her. Watching her face each time that happens gives him a rush because her taking him like that has to be the hottest things in this world.

And then he’s lost. He fucks her hard, making up for lost time and times ahead. This might be the only time they slip up, falling back into old habits for one night only. Although there’s a tiny flame of hope burning within him now - maybe she wants him as much as he wants her. Maybe he’ll tell her that he loves her and that he never wanted her to leave. Maybe she’ll tell him that it was a mistake to go to Chicago and it was nothing to do with him.

Those maybe’s are for tomorrow, though.

Clarke coming around his cock snaps him straight back into reality, along with the sound of the bathroom door opening. Bellamy’s hand flies up, pressing it to Clarke’s mouth to muffle her pleasure. She’s too gone to even notice someone’s here, riding out her orgasm to the end until they hear voices.

‘Bellamy must have took off?’ Miller says, accompanied by the noise of his zip coming undone.

‘Probably’ Murphy agrees, unzipping his own to use the urinal. Clarke’s eyes go wide and Bellamy just stares at her, silently willing her to not make a sound. His hand is still over her mouth and despite the danger of being caught, he can’t help but thrust gently into her. Her eyes flutter closed, aftershocks squeezing his cock as he does so and he has to stifle a groan of his own.

‘Raven, she’s amazing isn’t she?’ Murphy says dotingly.

‘Take her home then’ Miller flushes the urinal and the sound of his steps tells Bellamy that he’s walking over to the sink to wash his hands.

‘No, I don’t want it to be like that. I’m sick of that crap’ Murphy tells him. ‘Sick of fucking girls and nothing coming from it. I want something real.’

Clarke opens her eyes, her big blues staring into the depths of Bellamy’s soul. His heart sinks because that’s what he wants too, yet here he is - fucking Clarke like they’ve always done. He wants more than this.

‘My man’ Miller chuckles and there’s a slapping sound, like they’ve just high-fived. ‘Ask her on a date.’

‘You know what, I might’ Murphy says on his way out the door - and then they’re gone, their voices fading with them. Clarke wastes no time in bucking up against him but Bellamy finds it hard to get back into it. He’s slowly sobering and sense is starting to win out. He doesn’t want this to be it but if he stops now, he’ll have to tell her that and it’s not something he wants to do while drunk.

Instead, he takes a breath and juts his hips into her again. Her moans encourage him and so he fucks her deeper until she’s coming again - dragging him over the edge with her. His head drops to her shoulder as she pants for air.

He presses a kiss there, the move too intimate for what has just happened and Clarke notices it immediately, her breath freezing in her chest. Bellamy pretends like it was normal, slips out of her and fixes himself. He knows she’s watching him, waiting for him to say something but instead, he gives her a pathetic nod and leaves the cubicle.

He can’t talk to her now - because if he does, everything will come out. No, this is a conversation that requires tact and measured honesty - and a more sober Bellamy than present right now.

Fuck, what has he done? He had come so damn far and now it’s like he’s never moved on, now it’s like they never finished things.

Maybe that’s the problem, though.

Maybe it was never really over.

-

Hope ate Bellamy alive all weekend. Every second thought in his mind was if Saturday night meant as much to Clarke as it did to him, that maybe it was a sign that they could finally start something real this time.

Yet, with every hopeful thought came a boulder of doubt. His conscience seemed to love fighting him on everything, countering every positive thought with a negative one.

‘Clarke came back to Shallow Valley for you.’ - ‘ _She came back for a job and she left in the first place without any explanation.’_

‘Maybe Saturday night could have been the changing dial for everything.’ - ‘ _How was Saturday night different from any other night of hooking up?’_

‘She will have to talk about what happened.’ - ‘ _If she wanted to talk, she would have called by now.’_

‘It was you who initiated the whole thing, you should be the one to call.’ - _‘It wasn’t you who wanted to finish it, of course you initiated Saturday night. The ball is in her court.’_

Every time Bellamy’s phone lit up on Sunday, it was embarrassing how quickly he jumped to check who it was - and it was never Clarke. It’s no wonder he’s finding it hard to get any work done this morning.

His first class isn’t until ten, so he’s trying to grade homework this morning in order to fill the time. All that’s happening though is Bellamy re-reading a sentence so many times that he’s wondering if the word ‘supposedly’ is actually a word anymore. Maybe the student spelled it incorrectly and that’s why it looks so odd - or maybe he should stop trying to re-read the goddamn sentence.

‘Bellamy?’

He snaps his head up at his name, heart already thumping wildly in his chest because he knows who is standing in his doorway.

Clarke is dressed in a fluffy beige jumper and leggings, perfectly dressed for the nip in the air outside. Her arms are folded across her body, a telltale sign that she’s apprehensive - protective of herself. That combined with how soft and sheepish her eyes are, it tells Bellamy that she’s been building up to this moment as much as he was.

‘Clarke’ he croaks, his usual confidence missing from his tone.

‘Can I…’ she begins, gesturing to the chair in front of his desk and their interaction turns into a concoction of awkwardness, him stuttering ‘yeah of course’ as she steps in quickly to take her seat, all while he stands without really knowing why.

By the time Bellamy sits back down, his hands are sweating and his heart is thumping so hard in his chest, he’s sure it will fall out on the desk in front of them. Clarke’s blue eyes are darting, scanning his face for a few seconds before distracting herself with something else in his office.

‘I, uh…’ she starts off. ‘I wanted to talk about the other night.’

Maybe it’s the tone in which she says it or the way her face is so unsure, but Bellamy already knows from that one line that she regrets it. It’s an effort to swallow the disappointment but it takes mere seconds for the defence to rise within him, beating her to the punch.

‘It was a mistake’ he says evenly, watching the way her eyes dart to his.

‘Right’ she nods. ‘I don’t think we should go back down that road of just sleeping together.’ It’s on the tip of his tongue to say that he wants more than casual sex, almost falling off of it completely until she goes on. ‘I’m not interested in any of that right now. So it’s not fair to either of us and it’s not fair on Echo. I don’t want to stand in the way of the two of you progressing further.’

‘We’re over’ Bellamy mutters, leaning back in his chair and trying very hard to ignore the disappointment blooming in his ribcage. _She’s not interested in anything right now_. His response must take Clarke by surprise, her eyes widening in response.

‘Oh, I’m sorry’ she flicks her gaze down to her hands. ‘I hope it wasn’t…’

‘It happened on Friday, it wasn’t your fault’ he presses, not wanting her to feel guilty for that.

‘Oh’ she gives a half smirk but it doesn’t fill Bellamy with any relief. It’s cloaked in disappointment and resentment - he can see that from where he’s sitting. ‘So Saturday night, it was just a rebound.’

_No, Echo was the rebound._

‘Clarke’ he tries but she’s already standing, smiling with more sureness now.

‘We’re fine, Bellamy. All good’ her voice is light and airy but her body language screams that she just wants out of here. ‘We can be friends, right?’

Bellamy is standing now too, dying to scream that he’s in love with her but she already said that she doesn’t want to go back down that road with him. His heart feels like it’s splintering and he wonders how many more times his heart can break for this girl.

‘Yeah’ he agrees, the words tasting bitter on his tongue. ‘Friends.’

How can he ever be just friends with her?

Clarke gives him a short nod and a polite smile, holding his eye for a moment too long before she leaves. Bellamy cradles his head in his hands, leaning his elbows against the desk. This is what rock bottom must feel like because there’s no way he can feel any worse than he does right now. Maybe he’s just fucking doomed to live in this amount of pain for the rest of his life.

He was hoping for more out of that conversation - hoping to clear things up a little between them, hoping for more information on why she cared about Saturday night being a rebound or not, what she wanted that night to be. A final goodbye?

It doesn’t really matter, the only satisfactory result from their talk would have been his lips on hers at the end of it.

Clearly, that is something that won’t be happening again.

-

‘She’s so smart as well, did I tell you about this prototype she’s developing?’ Murphy gushes on about Raven, his beer barely touched because he hasn’t shut up since he sat down in The Rig.

It’s a foreign thing for Bellamy to witness - Murphy is a lot like Bellamy, enjoys keeping the words ‘serious’ and ‘girls’ completely separate from one another. Yet here he is, completely obsessed with Clarke’s friend after just one date.

‘You did but I’m sure you’re about to tell us again’ Monty chuckles from across the table, ripping paperboard corners off his beer mat to keep his fingers busy.

Murphy starts into repeating his story while Bellamy takes a scan of the place. The music is playing on low from the jukebox and there’s a few college students playing pool down the back. There isn’t much people here, just a few out for a social drink before the crowds spill into the streets later - ready for a proper night out.

The clock on the wall ticks towards 7pm, the set time Bellamy has allowed himself to finally be able to go home.

He has only had three bottles but he already knew before coming out that he wouldn’t be joining the late night partiers. He’s really just not in the mood, only out because the boys had roped him into it. Day drinking isn’t their usual scene but hey, there’s a first time for everything.

It has been a hard week, avoiding Clarke being Bellamy’s main priority. Still, he’s not sure how long he can keep it up. They work together after all and hearing her say that she doesn’t want anything right now hurts more than just presuming it.

He has no chance with her.

It was easier before, to imagine that she might secretly want him too. Even if he buried it, even if it was deep down, it was still a possibility.

Now - now, she has told him outright that she doesn’t want anything and it stings like a bitch. Bellamy almost feels like taking more weeks off work, lounging around his apartment for days on end in his own company like he did before. It’s hard to function on a normal level when the pain is this intense.

Miller’s fries arrive at the table and he swats Murphy’s hand away from them, yet it doesn’t stop Murphy from talking.

Bellamy has never seen him like this and even though he should be happy for his friend, he can’t help but feel a pinch of jealousy. He’d kill to have that with Clarke, to even have her consider a date with him. It’s devastating. How did things end up like this?

‘Hey, is that Clarke?’ Monty cuts Murphy off mid-sentence and all three of their heads turn in the direction Monty is looking. Bellamy’s heart has already stopped before his gaze lands on her, the mere mention of her name enough to cut off his oxygen supply. Sure as day, a flash of blonde hair comes into his vision but he doesn’t actually realise the situation he’s looking at until Miller vocalises it.

‘Is she on a date?’

Bellamy’s stomach churns. He swallows thickly, observing the back of Clarke’s head as her and this dark haired guy converse. They are at a two seater table against the wall, hidden away in a little nook and looking far too cosy.

_It is definitely a date._

Clarke tosses her head back when she laughs, too far away from the boys to be properly heard but all the same, the sound reverberates off of Bellamy in waves. He can hear her laugh in his head from memory - memories of when she used to laugh at him like that.

‘I didn’t even know she was interested in dating anyone’ Murphy chimes in, all four of their gazes still stuck on her.

‘Neither did I’ Bellamy mumbles. The jealousy and irritation burns up inside Bellamy all at once. She didn’t want anything casual, yet here she is on a date with a random person that none of them have seen before? Bellamy himself wasn’t good enough for her, she didn’t want him - casual or otherwise. And to think, he thought he couldn’t hurt any more than he already was.

He’s striding over to their table before he even realises what he’s doing, Miller and Murphy hissing a string of confused sentences at him from their table behind him.

‘Clarke’ he calls her, his acerbic tone standing out a mile. Her blue eyes snap up to him, probably surprised and confused to see him here this hour of the day.

‘Bellamy’ she half stutters, glancing from him to her date who is eyeing the interaction apprehensively, perhaps awaiting an introduction. Bellamy glances at the guy, rugged and dark and definitely Clarke’s type. She must sense the unspoken request. ‘This is Dave.’

‘Brilliant’ Bellamy deadpans, not giving a damn that he’s coming across as rude. ‘Can I talk to you for a second?’

‘I’m on a date’ Clarke’s brow furrows, clearly annoyed at his interruption. She looks so good in her little white shirt, buttoned low on purpose, Bellamy imagines. It only makes the jealousy inside him burn more severely.

‘So I see’ Bellamy grits out. ‘Dave won’t mind.’

‘Uh, go ahead’ Dave, to his credit, gestures to Clarke with his hand that she should go.

Clarke stares at her date for a beat longer than necessary, either trying to convey an apology through her gaze or else trying to delay the inevitable. Bellamy boldly waits for her to get up, feeling like a bit of an ass for doing so but his pulse is wild, proving how much emotion is swirling inside of him right now.

Finally, Clarke gets up - her body language screaming annoyance. From the corner of his eye, Bellamy is sure he can see his friends with their mouths wide open. He knows what they’re thinking - what the hell is he doing?

_What the hell is he doing?_

Clarke follows Bellamy to the bar, a good distance away from Dave and the Venus flytraps that are still in shock as to what Bellamy has done. He has just pulled Clarke from her date with no obvious explanation to anyone.

‘What?’ Clarke shrugs, leaning one of her arms on the bar. Her blonde, wavy hair is pinned back on two sides, creating a crown appearance on her head. _Appropriate._

‘What are you doing?’ Bellamy looks over to Dave who has his back to them, checking notifications on his phone.

‘I’m on a date’ Clarke repeats herself from the table, looking thoroughly confused as to what Bellamy is fucking doing.

‘I thought you didn’t want any of that right now?

‘I don’t want anything casual.’

‘So this is serious?’ Bellamy gestures over to Dave. ‘Where did you even meet him?’

‘Bellamy’ Clarke closes her eyes momentarily. ‘Why do you even care?’

This stops Bellamy like a bucket of cold water has been thrown over him. He’s not really sure what to say to that and Clarke knows it.

‘Look’ she sighs, lowering her voice a little. The vexation has faded out of it, giving way to what sounds like sadness. ‘What we had before I left for Chicago, it was easy. I get it. Sex whenever we wanted - and good sex at that.’

Bellamy frowns. Where is she going with this?

‘So, I’m sorry if us not doing that anymore is inconvenient for you…’

‘Clarke.’

‘But it is what it is. I’m just trying to move on.’

 _Wait, what?_ She turns to walk back towards her date but Bellamy’s hand shoots out, grabbing her arm gently to stop her before she can go any further. His mind is reeling, his heart going even faster.

‘Woah, woah’ their eyes lock on each other. ‘What do you mean, move on?’

Clarke seems to clock her error, her eyes widening. Bellamy can see the clogs in her mind turning, quickly trying to come up with a way to correct herself. There’s no mistake though, she meant what she said. Bellamy can read it off her from a mile away.

She tries to walk again but Bellamy steps forward, circling out in front of her to stop her.

‘Hey, hey.’ His heart is throbbing, an energy in his veins that he can’t quite name. ‘What are you moving on from?’

Clarke flicks her gaze to the floor, worrying her bottom lip. Fuck, is she implying what Bellamy thinks she’s implying? Was this more than just a friends with benefits arrangement for her too?

‘If it was just sex between us, why are you trying to move on?’ She still won’t fucking look at him. Damn, he needs her to look at him. He needs to hear this. He wants to scream at her, throw a barstool around, anything to gain her attention but she’s looking at everything except him. Her eyes dance from the bar to her shoes to a person passing by beside her. ‘Clarke!’ He presses. ‘Please.’

Almost like he guessed a magic password, finally, her blue eyes dart to his. Suddenly, he’s not so sure why he needed her to do it because her stare burns into him, full of regret and raw emotion. The silence stretches out far too long between them, ironically screaming volumes in itself. He’s waiting for her to answer him, tell him the truth - something he knows deep down will never come from this conversation.

‘I have to go’ she says too evenly, too flat, and steps out around him.

‘Clarke.’

‘Stop’ she snaps over her shoulder, an angry facade to cover up something else. His heart is still racing, head spinning. He can’t process anything, can’t catch up. Fuck.

Clarke must tell Dave that they’re leaving because in two seconds flat, both of them are gathering their jackets and walking towards the door out of The Rig. Clarke doesn’t spare Bellamy a second glance but Dave does, a little confusion in his expression.

Bellamy desperately wants to stop her but what can he do? He has no idea where her head is at, what she’s thinking or what the truth of this situation is. She’s hiding something though, he knows that much.

Bellamy turns back to his table, seeing all three of the boys wearing a wince on their faces.

‘Man, what the hell just happened?’ Miller says before Bellamy can even sit down.

‘That looked…intense’ Monty comments. Bellamy is just staring into space, trying to replay each word and interaction in his mind. Damn, has he misjudged their whole situation?

‘Fuck’ Murphy chuckles and they all glance at him. He’s staring straight at Bellamy with a knowing grin plastered onto his face. ‘Fucking hell, you snake.’

‘What?’ Miller leans forward, his elbows on the table.

‘He’s been fucking Clarke’ Murphy reveals and Bellamy’s eyes fall shut.

‘Piss off’ Miller laughs, falling back against his chair. ‘As if.’

Monty is staring at Bellamy sympathetically and Murphy is still grinning, pleased with himself that he’s figured it out.

‘It’s true. She’s the one responsible for your little isolation cruise during the summer, isn’t she?’

There’s no use denying it so Bellamy just lets Murphy ramble on while he stares a hole into the table in front of him. Damn it. Suppose it had to come out sooner or later and he wasn’t exactly subtle with that whole conversation with her just now.

Monty lets out a knowing sound as he joins memory with facts. ‘That’s what she was probably arguing with Octavia about.’

‘What?’ This has Bellamy’s attention.

‘The night she came back, I was passing by when Clarke said to Octavia that her feelings were getting out of control. It was none of my business so I didn’t stop to pry’ Monty shrugs. Bellamy is up like a shot, clambering out of his seat and grabbing his jacket on the way.

‘Wait, you’re serious?’ Miller’s voice has risen an octave. ‘It was actually Clarke who broke your heart?’

‘Yes, Miller’ Murphy answers for Bellamy. ‘We’re morons for not figuring it out sooner.’

‘Hold on, we need more information!’ Miller calls to Bellamy but he’s already heading towards the door. He needs to talk to his sister.

Before the door swings shut behind him, he can hear Miller laughing as he accepts that Clarke and Bellamy have been having a secret thing together right under their noses. The last thing Bellamy hears is his best friend’s smug voice.

‘Our boy is in love with a Princess.’

-

Bellamy finds himself pounding the hell out of Octavia’s apartment door.

A storm of pain and hope have been whirling in his chest the whole way here. Fuck, this is so messed up. He said so much shit to Clarke to make her think that he didn’t give a damn about their arrangement - but now, that might have just been the thing to drive her further away. Maybe she wanted him to give a damn, because she loves him too?

His fist doesn’t let up on Octavia’s door until she pulls it open in a panic.

‘Jesus, Bellamy. What? What’s wrong?’ Her eyes are wide as he barges in past her. Lincoln is standing at the end of the hallway, eyes full of concern.

‘What were you and Clarke arguing about? The night she came back to town?’ He pants, out of breath from the exertion on his heart.

‘What?’ Octavia scrunches up her face in confusion as she closes the door behind him.

‘Octavia!’ Bellamy shouts.

‘Bell, calm down’ she says frantically. She tries to touch him but he pulls away, scrubbing his face with his hand as he tries to breathe. ‘You’re scaring me, what’s going on?’

He needs to know. He needs to fix this. Clarke is out there with some guy, trying to move on from Bellamy when he wants her more than anything in the world. All of her. Forever.

‘O, just tell me what you were arguing about?’

‘She told me the reason she went back to Chicago and I got annoyed about it’ Octavia is trying to play it off, he knows her too well. Knows the way she folds her arms across her chest is an effort to keep herself controlled.

‘Why did she leave for Chicago?’

‘Bell…’

‘Octavia - why did she leave?’

‘Okay, everyone needs to calm down’ Lincoln comes up behind Bellamy.

‘Tell me’ Bellamy presses.

His sister is clearly trying to put this all together, weigh up the consequences of telling him the truth in her head. She leans against her hallway wall, the light above them bouncing off of her sleek black hair. It’s silent between them all for a minute, Bellamy staring desperately at her as his chest rises and falls.

‘She told me she was starting to have feelings…for you’ Octavia closes her eyes, the moral pull of betraying her best friend obviously taking its toll.

Bellamy’s heart almost gives out. Lincoln has appeared beside Bellamy, looking just as interested in this as Bellamy is. Octavia clearly hasn’t told him either, kept Clarke’s secret like the good friend she is.

‘She said she didn’t mean for it to happen but she couldn’t stay - not when you are the way you are.’

‘The way I am?’ Bellamy croaks out.

‘You have no interest in relationships, no interest in becoming serious with anyone. So she had to leave before it got worse, before she fell so far that she couldn’t come back from it.’

Bellamy is pretty sure his pulse has vanished. Fuck. Fuck.

‘I was annoyed because she didn’t tell me that before she left - maybe I could have helped her. And it hasn’t been easy for her being home, knowing you were seeing someone when that was all she wanted with you.’

‘Damn it’ Bellamy breathes, shaking his head.

Lincoln’s hand comes to rest on his shoulder, squeezing it comfortingly. Seeing Bellamy with Echo must have injected the same self criticism into Clarke as seeing Clarke with Dave had for Bellamy: why not me?

‘Why are you asking me this? Has something happened?’ Octavia goes on. ‘You can’t tell her I told you, Bell. She’ll die of embarrassment.’

He takes a sharp inhale through his nose, blowing it out slowly through his mouth in an effort to calm himself down. He feels like he could cry. All of this could have been avoided with honesty. All of it.

‘Shit’ he shoves his hands through his curls, stepping and fumbling awkwardly in the small space of Octavia’s hallway.

‘What?’ Octavia straightens, eyes imploring him for an explanation. ‘Bell. What?’

He stops, looking at his sister as he feels every piece of emotional gravity crushing him. Honesty starts now.

‘I’m in love with her, O.’

Octavia brows furrow in a mixture of what looks like confusion and surprise, eyes darting as they turn from bafflement to understanding in a matter of seconds.

‘Oh you idiots’ she scowls. ‘You were sleeping with her.’

Bellamy closes his eyes, guilt consuming him. This is his fault. Clarke was more than willing to fall into that arrangement with him but he should have known that feelings would be caught. He just didn’t expect it to be on his side as well. On top of all of that, he has lied to everyone around him - his sister included.

‘I don’t think that matters now’ Lincoln chimes in.

‘The hell it doesn’t. How long, Bellamy?’

Bellamy looks up at his sister from under his brows. ‘How long what?’

‘How long were you fucking my best friend before she had to leave the goddamn state because of it?’

The sound of betrayal in her tone can be heard a mile off and Bellamy wishes he didn’t upset her, but fuck, he doesn’t have the time for this right now. His heart is telling him to go to Clarke, to go and make things right.

‘Three months’ he mutters and Octavia scoffs.

‘You fucking idiots’ she shakes her head. ‘This is just typical you, big brother.’

‘Babe, come on’ Lincoln steps forward and she meets his eye.

‘Why aren’t you surprised by this?’ She says, her tone accusatory. When Lincoln doesn’t answer, she lets out a laugh that rings too false. ‘You knew.’

‘Don’t blame Lincoln. He only found recently’ Bellamy defends him.

‘Are you kidding me?’ Octavia gapes. ‘The two of you can fuck off.’

‘I kept his secret’ Lincoln tells her. ‘Just like you kept Clarke’s.’

‘This is different! Bellamy is the reason all of this…’

‘ _Octavia_!’ Bellamy yells, cutting her off and it makes both her and Lincoln jump. He doesn’t have time for the blame game - hell, he’ll take all of it. But he needs to sort this first - Clarke is his priority at the moment. ‘All due respect, but this is not what I’m here for. I’m sorry, I am’ he exclaims. ‘But I need to fix this with Clarke. I’m in love with her - and she needs to know that. She’s on a date right now.’

‘Yeah - to try and get over her feelings for you! You dated someone as well, Bell.’

‘Yeah, I did. I forced myself into something that my heart wasn’t fully in. You don’t think I wished every day for her to come and tell me that she was in love with me? I need to tell her.’

Octavia softens a little at this. The anger is still there and because she’s stubborn, he’ll have to do a whole lot of grovelling to make up for lying to her - but he knows his sister, and she knows him. He just told her that he’s in love with someone. That in itself is enough to make her realise how serious this is.

‘She probably won’t answer calls on a date, but she’s staying with Harper again. You can probably catch her there later’ she utters.

Bellamy moves like he’s starting a race. On his way out the door, he plants a kiss on his sister’s cheek and she groans in response - it’s lighthearted, light enough for Bellamy to know that she’s probably not as mad as she was when she initially found out.

He’ll deal with the fallout of all this later - right now, Clarke is the only thing on his mind. And she needs to know how he feels.

-

_‘I’m seeing someone now, I’m happy.’_

_‘What? You thought I was heartbroken that you left after just being a fuck buddy for me? Come on, Princess. Who am I? I don’t get hung up on girls, especially not ones that were supposed to be my friend and just leave without reason.’_

_‘I was just pissed that you took the cowards way out and left without having the decency to tell any of us why. As you heard, it took no more than a quick fuck to get over that.’_

_‘It was a mistake.’_

The lies he fed to Clarke since her return reverberate around Bellamy’s head the entire way to Harper’s apartment. God, he’s hurt her so much. He basically hammered the nail into the coffin, calcifying the fact that he does not fall for women, that he’s not a relationship kind of guy. No wonder she’s trying to move on.

‘Bellamy?’ Harper looks confused upon opening her door. She has her leather jacket on and her fingers are busy slotting earrings into her lobes.

‘Hi’ Bellamy exasperates. ‘Is Clarke home?’

‘Uh, no’ Harper shoves the door open wider with her foot, an invitation for him to come in. ‘She’s on a date, I think.’

 _‘I know_ ’ Bellamy thinks, wants to say out loud but the words are caught by the disappointment in his chest.

It is early - Bellamy would be surprised to see her home at this time, still - he had hope that she might be.

He closes the apartment door behind him, following Harper into her living room. The television is off and the curtains are pulled, a sign that Clarke’s roommate is probably heading out for the night. The muted green on the walls is soothing to Bellamy’s eyes, soft furnishings making this place a definite home. It’s cleaner than Bellamy’s place, the furniture spaced out more evenly and overall, the place has a nicer, more feminine touch.

There’s a closed sketchbook on the coffee table in front of the couch, pencils and paints sprawled out around it - Clarke’s own spin on the place in one single area.

‘I’m heading out to meet Monty and the boys in The Rig, you wanna come?’ Harper asks as she picks up her purse from the kitchen counter.

‘I was hoping I could wait here for Clarke - if you don’t mind’ Bellamy shuffles a little on his feet, hands in his pockets as he stands awkwardly in the centre of her apartment. Harper’s brow furrows, probably a little unsure as to why he’d want to do that until understanding sweeps across her features.

‘ _Oh_ ’ she smiles. ‘Yeah, of course. Make yourself at home’ she says with a little wink. ‘Good luck.’

With her keys jingling, Harper departs and Bellamy finds himself alone - waiting like a fool for the girl he loves to come home from a date.

He scrubs a hand over his beard, feeling a little embarrassed at having to do this but a little good about it as well. Clarke has feelings for him, she might even love him too if fate is on his side. It’s a step in the right direction - he just hopes he hasn’t ruined it, hopes he isn’t too late.

Taking a seat on the couch, he considers turning on the television but decides the silence is probably better company right now. There’s a small table lamp sending out a soft glow around the apartment and Bellamy basks in the calm for a minute.

He pulls out his phone, re-reads old text messages from Clarke - trying to pull out anything that may possibly indicate her trying to tell him that she has feelings for him. They didn’t text much so Bellamy can find absolutely nothing, only fond memories of when they were happy. Maybe that was evidence enough.

Leaning forward, Bellamy lets out a sigh as he fidgets with a pencil of Clarke’s on the table. God, he’s only sat here five minutes and he’s going out of his mind. What will he say to her? How does he even begin? He just needs her to come home.

His eyes land on the sketchbook again and curiosity gets the better of him. Clarke has always been talented at art and it’s possible he will find all of her projects for teaching inside it, yet nothing prepares him for the piece on the first page when he flicks it open.

His breath catches in his throat, emotion burning behind his eyes. With shaking fingers, he traces one over the strokes of pencil that Clarke has coloured the page with. There’s a red heart in the corner, perfectly articulated on paper like she had copied and pasted it from a medicine textbook. In the opposite corner near the bottom lies a pink brain, designed in the flawless manner that has Clarke Griffin’s talent written all over it.

That’s not what gets Bellamy most though - it’s the drawing in between the brain and the heart. Two pairs of arms, two hands reaching for one another across the paper. One, pale and creamy skinned, the other, dark and tanned.

Him and her. The heart and the head.

There’s a numbness coming over Bellamy, a cold sweat breaking out at the back of his neck. As if he needed any more confirmation that this is real - she feels something for him too, she misses him too.

His heart almost falls into his stomach upon hearing keys entering the lock at the other side of the apartment. Clarke’s voice comes after it, only growing in volume as she pushes open the door. Bellamy stands to his feet, leaving the sketchbook on the coffee table as he goes.

‘No, I had to go, Raven.’ Her head is down as she enters, focusing on detangling her jacket from the bag around her shoulder. ‘I _did_ give him a chance. I stayed for almost three hours.’

Bellamy swallows thickly. He didn’t expect her home so early, he hasn’t prepared anything. His eyes are stuck on her though, waiting for her to notice him. His skin is on fire - the anticipation is killing him.

Her hair is loose of it’s pins now, clearly let down during her walk back here. Her white shirt is untucked from her jeans and if Bellamy knows her as well as he thinks he does, she’s only dying to take her makeup off now that she’s home.

‘I just don’t think I’m ready for this. No, he was fine, perfectly lovely. He just wasn’t…’ it’s at this moment, Clarke looks up, seeing Bellamy standing in the middle of her living room. ‘Bellamy’ she breathes.

Time seems to stand still. The moment stretches out between the two of them as Clarke lowers the phone slightly, shock plastered over her entire expression.

‘Nobody is ever going to be Bellamy but babe, he’s not interested in something serious. We’ve been over this’ Raven can be heard through the speaker. Clarke seems to remember that she’s on the phone and slowly pulls it back up to her ear.

‘I’ll call you back’ she croaks out, voice sounding shot to hell before hanging up. Bellamy wipes the palms of his hands on his jeans, tongue suddenly feeling too big for his mouth. The silence lies thick on his skin until she has to remind him to talk, remind him what he came here for.

‘What are you doing here?’ She asks but her voice holds no ill will. It’s soft, the way he remembers it late at night - just before she fell asleep. Barely a whisper. Bellamy clears his throat, forcing his eyes to stay on her - damn, he’s so out of his depth here.

‘I’ve just talked to Octavia.’

‘Okay’ Clarke looks unsure, taking a step towards him and putting her jacket and bag down on the adjacent couch. ‘And?’

‘And she told me why you left for Chicago’ Bellamy says but his voice sounds foreign to him, doesn’t even come off like his own. It’s unconfident, weighed down by emotion and apprehension. Clarke closes her eyes, shaking her head as obvious anger builds within her.

‘She had no right to do that’ she mutters. ‘I told her…’

‘Why didn’t you tell _me_?’ Bellamy cuts her off, the sensation of his throat growing tight, engulfing him. He’s finally having it out with her, which is what he wanted, but he feels bad for landing Octavia in it. It was probably going to come out anyway, though.

Clarke blinks a couple of times before answering.

‘You?’ She swallows. ‘Tell the guy who is notorious for flings and one night stands, who has had longer relationships with tubs of peanut butter, that I’m in love with him?’ she folds her arms. The humour is lost on him right now because he feels like he’s been punched in the gut.

Even though he had his suspicions, even though he had his hopes, hearing her say that she’s in love with him out loud makes his heart trip. There’s a throbbing in his ears, a roaring sensation of blood flow through his extremities.

Fuck.

He can do nothing but stare at her, can’t summon any words at all to his mouth. The silence stretches out too long.

‘Just get out, Bellamy’ Clarke decides, making a beeline for the adjoining kitchen. ‘I’ve had a long day and really, I don’t need any more of this constant embarrassment. Yeah, it’s laughable that I’ve fallen for you. Yeah, it’s ridiculous that I knew what I was getting myself in for with you. Yeah, it’s stupid that I ever thought you could love me back. Well, guess what? I…’

During her rant, Bellamy’s feet had carried him into the kitchen after her. She had barely turned around when his lips were on hers, cutting her off completely.

Dear God, he couldn’t hold off any longer. He kisses her with the desperation that’s been building inside of him for too long now.

It’s not heated like their kiss at The Rig, but passionate instead. His fingers are tracing the line of her jaw and hers have drifted to his torso, like the strength has left her body completely and she needs to hold herself up.

He can’t stop, can’t pull away from her because the whole world has fallen away. There’s nothing else left. The wind is gone from his lungs and the feeling of her soft skin against his is just everything. He kisses her like he’s dying, like he needs her to breathe - because maybe he does.

When they finally break away, he doesn’t go far. He rests his head against hers, eyes closed as he relishes in the closeness of her. Her breathing is coming in shallow bursts and he can practically feel the energy simmering between them.

‘I love you’ he says, the words tumbling out of his mouth as easy as it is to think them. He was so afraid to admit that to her and now here he is, saying them like he’s never been so sure of anything else in his life before.

Clarke lets out a breathless laugh, the sound igniting a spark in Bellamy’s chest.

‘Bellamy’ she chokes out. ‘You can’t say stuff like that unless you mean it.’

‘I do mean it’ he promises her, his brown eyes staring straight into her soul. ‘I’ve loved you before all of this, before Echo, before you left for Chicago. I mean it, Clarke. I’m so fucking in love with you - and I’m so sorry. For everything.’

It’s hard for him to convey the complexity of what he feels but he doesn’t need to - he just needs her to _believe_ those three words that seemed so difficult to say for so long.

She releases a shaky breath, tears already forming in her eyes as she smiles. It’s relief if Bellamy ever saw it. It mirrors his own - relief that she finally knows, relief that she feels the same.

In one swift movement, Clarke throws herself into him and he envelopes her in a hug immediately. He can hear her breathe him in and he clutches the back of her hair, a couple of tears flowing down his cheeks.

‘ _It’s just relief_ ’ he tells himself but it’s more than that - he knows it. It’s finally having his girl back in his arms, it’s the knowledge that he never has to be apart from her like that again, that he no longer has to try to move on.

Bellamy tucks his nose into the space between Clarke’s shoulder and her neck, holding onto her tightly like he’s afraid she’ll disappear from his arms, like this might be a dream.

‘I’ve wanted this for so long’ her voice breaks, muffled against his clothing.

‘Me too, Princess.’

‘Both of us are such idiots’ she chuckles and Bellamy pulls back, laughing now too.

‘That’s what my sister said.’

He presses a gentle kiss to her lips, loving that he can finally do it again. He took all those little kisses and moments for granted before, sure that he would always have them. Now, he will never take any second with this girl for granted ever again.

‘What now?’ She asks against his lips, clearly a little giddy from this whole thing. She looks exactly how Bellamy feels. His heart is soaring and he’s sure the beams of happiness are bursting out of his every pore.

‘Now, we’re together. That’s all that matters’ he tells her, a soft smile on his lips.

‘Together’ Clarke breathes, pressed tightly against his body. She hums in contentment and Bellamy is sure his heart will burst. It can’t contain this much happiness. It’s impossible.

There’s no use in denying it anymore. He had tried so hard to move on, to pretend, to skate by without acknowledging one simple fact that will never cease being true.

Bellamy Blake will always be hung up on Clarke Griffin.

 _Always_. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Boom, out.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading. This was so much fun to participate in and a lot of work was put in by all those involved. Definitely check out the other brilliant fics/artwork produced for this challenge because there’s never enough Bellarke love.
> 
> Special thank you's to @catastrophic-chloe, @clarkeindra, @icantloseyou-too, @pawprinterfanfic, @underbellamy and @raven-reyes-of-sunshine for listening to me rant/freak out about this fic, helping me work out kinks, letting me bounce ideas off of you, reading excerpts of it to make sure it was okay and for leaving me detailed notes on your feelings/thoughts about it (looking at you, Ciara!) I wouldn't have been able to finish it without you all.
> 
> As always, comments and kudos are greatly appreciated. You can find me and this fic on [tumblr](https://eyessharpweaponshot.tumblr.com/post/186299654389/hung-up-on-you-a-bellarke-modern-au-written) if you want to share it and reach out to me 💛
> 
> I just want to say a massive thank you to those of you who put forward this fic for awards/nominations. You are all incredibly kind.
> 
> **Bellarke Fan Work Awards (BFWA) 2019** :  
> Best Modern Fic (over 8000 words) - Semi Finals.  
> Best Angst Fic (over 8000 words) - Nominated.  
> Best Smut Fic (over 8000 words) - Round 1 Winners.  
> Best Coworkers AU - Nominated.  
> Best Best Friend's Brother Fic - Finals.  
> Best Secret Relationship Fic - Nominated.  
> Best Mutual Pining Fic - Nominated.  
> 


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